Leaving Town
by Madelyn
Summary: Chandler and Monica songfic... Monica takes an oppurtunity in Boston that will change her life forever- will she realize where she belongs?
1. Default Chapter

_Chronologically, this story would take place a few years before the show started.  Monica's like 25, __Chandler__ and Ross (still married to Carol) are 26ish.  Phoebe's there, she lives with Monica, and Joey and Rachel aren't introduced yet.  I think that's all you need to know._

**Disclaimer:  I don't own anything.**

                "I need to tell you guys something," Monica started nervously.  She looked at the four people whose attention she'd just caught.  Her big brother, protective, caring Ross and his wife Carol.  Her roommate, flaky, loyal Phoebe.   And Chandler, who was always there for her, her best friend.

            "You gonna tell us or do we have to guess?" Chandler quipped after a few awkward moments.

            "Shut up.  This is kinda serious.  I didn't tell you, because I didn't think I'd get it, and didn't want to make a big deal out of it, but… a few months ago I applied for a job in Boston."

            "Boston… Boston's in Massachusetts," Phoebe said, confused.

            "Yeah.  Well, it was right after I broke up with Bryan… I was upset, and depressed… I just wanted to apply, I told myself I'd deal with that part if I was hired."  She surveyed their expressions.  Phoebe's was still intently listening.  Ross's had fallen a little, expecting the next words out of her mouth.  Carol's was warm and understanding.  And Chandler's- Chandler's she could barely look at.  His mouth was set in a hard, firm line.  His warm blue eyes had gone cold.  His right knee was jerking around nervously.

            "I got it," she said quietly.  

            "I guess I don't have to ask whether or not you're taking it, if you're telling us about it," Ross said, a little sadly.

            "I just… I think it would be a great opportunity.  I was offered the head chef position.  It's a really well established restaurant…" she trailed off.

            "You're leaving?" Phoebe asked incredulously.

            "I think so."

            "Don't say you think so, if you know it.  Don't bullshit Monica," Chandler said harshly, finally speaking.

            "Chandler," Carol admonished.  

            "Sorry," he muttered, closing his eyes briefly.

            "I know it's.. I know it's a lot of information, a lot to take in," Monica said quietly.  "I just thought you should know that this is what I want right now."

            "When do you leave?" Phoebe asked sadly.

            "Three weeks from tomorrow."

            "THREE WEEKS?  Have you even told mom and dad yet?" Ross asked incredulously.

            "No, not yet."

            "Well, were you planning on it?" Ross asked annoyed.

            "Of course I was planning on it, Ross.  Look, I know you guys are probably going to be mad at me, but I really think that this is the best thing for me right now, and I hope that you can understand that."

            "Congratulations, Monica," Carol offered after a slight pause.

            "Thanks," she said, surveying her friends once again.  Phoebe jumped up and grabbed her tightly.

            "I'm going to miss you," she said, holding back tears.  Monica hugged her back fiercely.  "I'll miss you too Phoebs, so much."  They pulled apart and wiped their eyes.  Phoebe stroked Monica's hair affectionately.  "If this is what you really want-"

            "It is," Monica answered.

            "Then I'm happy for you," Phoebe finished.

            "Me too," Ross said quietly.  Monica turned to face him.

            "Really?" she asked.

            "Really.  I only want the best for you Mon.  It'll suck, you leaving.  But it's your life.  I love you," he said, giving her a hug.  

            All eyes fell to Chandler.  He got up awkwardly.  "I have to go."

            "What?" Monica asked.

            "I have to- I just have to go," he said quickly, before practically bolting out the door.

            "He's just-" Ross began.

            "I have to go find him," Monica said, cutting her brother off and following Chandler.

            She found him in his apartment, opening a beer and collapsing on the barca lounger.

            "What the hell was that?" she asked angrily.  Her blue eyes were dark and flashing.  

            "I'm sorry, do you seriously think you have the right to be mad at _me_?" Chandler asked her incredulously.

            "Yeah, that's exactly what I think.  I just had to tell you guys a really hard thing, Chandler, and I at least expected _you_ to understand."

            "You expected- Jesus, Monica, how can I understand this?  How can I understand you?"

            "Because you're my best friend!  Because you should be wanting the best for me, wanting me to do what I have to do.  And at the end of the day, even if you _still don't think I should go, you should be faking it, okay?  Because I can't do this without you," she said, her words softening at the end._

            "Yeah, well, maybe I'm just a terrible friend," he muttered.

            "You're not.  You're just being a jerk right now," she said, tears pricking at her eyes.

            He saw that she was on the verge of tears and sighed.

            "Yes, Mon, I am.  I'm completely selfish.  I don't want you to go because I'd miss you too much, and I'm being a horrible friend."

            "You're not realizing that I'm going to miss you too, Chandler.  I don't know what I'm going to do without you across the hall, to complain to or watch bad movies with at two o' clock in the morning, or ditch work with to play Frisbee in the park, or order Chinese with and only eat half and then trade…"  He got up and walked toward her.  

            "Monica… is this what you really want, or is this a knee jerk decision because of what happened with Bryan?" he asked her, looking into her eyes.

            "Honestly?  It's a lot of things, and that does play a part in my wanting to leave.  That was the initial reason.  But the more I think about it, the more I feel… stifled, or something.  Like, I can't stay in New York without sacrificing part of myself.  And if I stay here with you guys, my security blankets, my safety net… then I'm never going to experience anything, I'll never find out who I really am."

            "I'm not going to lie.  I don't want you to go.  But if you need someone to hold your hand on the way to the airport… you know that person is me."

            Monica threw her arms around his neck in one fluid movement.  He wrapped his arms around her tightly, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, feeling her shoulders shake slightly and knowing she was crying.  She held him closer to her.

            "I love you, Chandler.  Thank you," she said, trying to stop her tears.  He closed his eyes and tried to fight his own.

            "I love you too, Mon."

_"Oh your reputation's so golden,  You're never lonely and you're never home   
I know you've been talking about leaving,  You've lost all your feeling for this town   
Paint your nails and put on your lipstick,  You don't want to miss your ticket out   
Just because you graduate from school, so high in the gene pool, that's your point of view   
but when you're broken down, and no one else is around   
you'll come running back to this town… and I'll be there, yeah I'll be there   
  
'cause I remember how we drank time together   
and how you used to say that the stars are forever   
and daydreamed about how to make your life better   
by leaving town, leaving town…"_

**_-Leaving Town, Dexter Freebish_****__**


	2. Sleepless Nights

Thanx for the reviews J  Keep em coming if you want me to keep writing!!!  This picks up pretty much where we left off.  Maybe a week or so later.

Disclaimer:  NOOOTHING is mine okay?  Seriously.  Not even the computer, it's my sister's old one.  Cool.

ANYWAY.  On with the story.

~Maddy~

            Monica was folding sweaters meticulously with a cardboard square as a guide, a little trick she learned from the Gap.  The box next to her was filling up with perfect stacks of colorful wool, cashmere and cotton, reds, blues, blacks and every color in between.  Chandler called her "The Sweater Queen."

            "You don't need to take _everything, you know," Phoebe said, perched on the corner of her bed watching.  "It's mid July.  You're not going to need those for at least two months, and you better believe I'll see you before then."_

            "I don't want to leave all my stuff crowded in here.  It's your apartment now," Monica said with a smile, knowing that would make Phoebe gloat.  Which it did, for maybe five seconds.

            "Mon, you know your room is always going to be here.  Untouched.  Empty.  Waiting for you to-"

            "I know Phoebe.  Thank you," Monica cut in, giving her best friend a hug.  She couldn't let her say "waiting for you to come back".  If she went to Boston knowing that, she'd never last a week.

            "Hello?  Girls?" they heard Chandler enter.

            "In here!" Phoebe yelled back.  Monica went back to folding.  "How's he taking this?" Phoebe whispered as Chandler crossed the living room.

            "We'll see," Monica said with a shrug.  

            "What are you guys- oh," Chandler said as he came into the bedroom.  

            "We're getting Monica's clothes together," Phoebe explained, picking a piece of lint off the sleeve of the sweater Monica was folding.

            "I can see that," he said sadly.  Monica looked up and caught his eye.  She gave him a weak smile.

            "I'm just getting a head start.  I have more clothes than I thought."

            "Yeah.  How many sweaters ya got in there?  20?  30?" he joked.  "I don't think there's a single color you haven't covered."

            "And there's about five black ones," Phoebe added, smiling, happy that the conversation was light and breezy again for the first time in days.

            "Shut up," Monica said grinning.  "Or we'll clean out your closets next."

            "Not saying a word," Phoebe said quickly.

            "I think you have the perfect amount of sweater type garments." Chandler added.

            "That's what I thought," she said with a dry smile, back at work.  "Hey, you want this?" she asked, holding up a lavender cashmere turtleneck.

            "It's not really my color," Chandler quipped.  Both girls rolled their eyes. 

            "Hey, _Phoebs, you want this?" she tried again.  _

            "Oooh cashmere!  Kay!" she squealed, clutching her new possession to her chest.

            "Do you have anything in more of a winter weight, maybe a salmon?" Chandler teased.

            "No, but I think Ross does," Monica answered, and the three of them laughed.  Monica grinned.  Laughing, joking and hanging out.  That's how it was supposed to be.  This is how she wanted the last few weeks to be with her friends.

            She rolled over for the eight thousandth time and checked the glowing red numbers on her alarm clock.  2:38.  She was leaving tomorrow afternoon, and was restless with anxiety and anticipation. She sighed in frustration, kicked her legs around for a  few seconds, then threw the covers off of her and got out of bed.  Wandering into the living room, careful to be quiet and not wake Phoebe or trip over the pile of boxes in the middle of the kitchen, she began doing menial tasks that she hoped would lull her to sleep.  After emptying the dishwasher, organizing the photographs on the refrigerator and alphabatizing the rest of Phoebe's CDs, she grabbed the trash and headed for the chute.  A stream of yellow light peeked out from under the door to Apartment 19.  Chandler was up.  She disposed of the garbage and knocked gently three times.  He answered almost immediately.

            "Hey, you," he said with a smile.  She smiled back.  His hair was kind of messy, and he was wearing boxers and one of his NYU t-shirts.  To her surprise, she found herself looking him up and down and deciding he looked hot.

            "Couldn't sleep," she finally offered weakly.  "And I saw your light was on when I took out the trash."  She explained, following him into the kitchen.  He laughed.

            "Only you would take out the garbage when you can't sleep, Mon," he said shaking his head.

            "And what about you?  What are you doing awake?" she asked, ignoring his teasing remark.  He shrugged.

            "I haven't been sleeping well lately.  I was just doing some work stuff," he said, indicating his computer.

            "Well, I know soemthing's wrong when you're doing work by choice," she commented, only half kidding.  She hopped up on the counter and gave him an inquisitive look.  "What's going on?"

            He looked at the ground, the wall behind her, the refrigerator.  Anywhere but in her eyes; those dark blue sparkling eyes that always made him tell the truth.  He looked anywhere but at her concerned face, her silky dark hair, wild from sleeplessness, her long legs swinging carelessly beneath her perch on his countertop.  If he focused on any of that, on her porcelain skin with just a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose and her shoulders beneath her clinging blue t shirt, or on the way she bit her lower lip when she was trying to figure him out, he'd lose it.  It was late enough, and he was tired enough, that if he looked at any of that, he'd tell her the real reason he hadn't slept in three nights.

            "Nothing, I just have some stuff on my mind," he finally spoke.  Her legs stopped swinging.

            "Anything you want to talk about?"

            "No, not really.  Nothing important," he said casually.  She reached out and touched his shoulder.

            "If it's bothering you, it's important," she said, softly but firmly.  He looked away.

            "You have a big day tomorrow.  You should get some sleep," he said quietly.  She stared at him, willing him to tell her what was going on in that head of his.  When it didn't work, she hopped off the counter in one fluid motion.  

            "I guess you're right," she said, making her way towards the door.  Her eyes stung with tears as she reached for the doorknob and realized that next time she couldn't sleep, he wouldn't be there.  She turned around to find him staring at her.

            "Next time… next time I'm awake at three o' clock in the morning… I can't go across the hall," she said, trying to hold back her tears.

            "Well… you could, but I'd probably wait until you introduce yourself to the neighbors," he joked, trying to make her laugh.  She gave him a weak smile.

            "Don't make jokes."

            "You know I'm no good otherwise," he said.  She crossed the few steps between them quickly and caught him in a tight embrace.  

            "I'm going to miss you so much," she said, choking on the last word as the tears began to flow.  He sighed.

            "I'm going to miss you too.  More than I think you can ever know," he whispered.  She composed herself as quickly as she could and walked to the door again.

            "Sorry," she said, "I'm overtired or something."  

            "Mon?" he called to her as she was halfway through the doorway.

            "Yeah?"

            "Don't worry about that three in the morning thing.  I'll sleep with the cordless on the nightstand."

            She grinned widely.

            "So will I."

_Cause__ I remember how we drank time together_

_And how you used to say the stars are forever_

_And day dreamed about how to make your life better by leaving town_

_Leaving town…_

Okay that was kind of filler material to bridge into the real story.  Love it?  Hate it? Let me know.


	3. Changes

A.N. :  Wow, sorry for the extreme delay in updates… school wrapping up has pretty much taken over my life (sad, I know.)  Well, here's the third chapter.  Hope you like it… REVIEW PLEASE!

Disclaimer:  I don't own anything having to do with Friends 

**_This story begins roughly 10 months after we left off…_**

            It had been hard, at first, she reflected thoughtfully, but it was getting better.  

            At the beginning of her first month in Boston, she was faced with a huge amount of responsibility at work, a rent she couldn't afford, and not a single friend in the entire city.  By the end of that first month, she was managing well at work, found herself a roommate, and was beginning to make a few friendships; nothing like what she left behind, but it was progress all the same.

            The roommate factor came in the form of her best friend from childhood, Rachel Green.  Rachel had run out on her wedding, and had landed in Boston on a whim.  The two had run into each other on the street, and after catching up over coffee, decided that it was fate.  Rachel moved in at the end of the week.

            However, even after she had begun to acclimate herself, it hadn't been easy.  She'd talked to Chandler on the phone every single night, and at least 5 times out of 7 would hang up crying.  And then there was there was the time he came to see her…

            "Mon, seriously, you gotta tell me.  Are you doing okay over there?  I mean, I know you miss us and home and everything.  But are you going to be okay?" he had asked her, concerned.

            "I don't know.  Sometimes I think I am.  Others it's all I can do not to jump on the next plane back to New York."

            "You've only been there for two weeks.  You can't expect it to feel like home after two weeks."

            "I know," she had sniffled.  "But I'm starting to think that it won't ever feel like home without-"

            "Without what?"

            "Without… you," she finished quietly.

            "Monica… we had this conversation two years ago."

            "I know.  And I'm not saying I want anything romantic between us."  His heart had fallen at that statement, but he brushed it off.

            "Then what are you saying?" he asked impatiently.  She broke down crying.

            "I'm just saying I miss you," she sobbed.

            He was in Boston approximately 13 hours later.  The doorbell rang, and Rachel answered it, appraising the sandy haired handsome stranger while greeting him.

            "Hi, you must be Rachel… Mon's roommate?  I'm-"

            "Chandler.  I've seen your picture.  She's in the shower, come on in."

            Rachel had just gotten Chandler settled with a glass of iced tea when the bathroom door opened and Monica exited distractedly, wrapped in a towel, her hair dripping wet.  

            "Rach?  Who was at the-"  Her gaze settled on Chandler.  She crossed the distance between them in no time flat and flung herself into his arms.  He laughed and squeezed her tightly.  Rachel smiled and left quietly.

            "What are you doing here?" she asked, muffled against the sleeve of his shirt.  

            "I was in the area," he joked.  "You know, the others are gonna kill me for not telling them I was coming to see you.  Everyone misses you terribly.  And Ross and Carol are really on the outs-"

            "Shut up… be quiet for a second," Monica interrupted, holding him at arms length before enveloping him into another giant hug.  "I can't believe you're here."

            They had spent the weekend together.  That night, they almost kissed three times, and had another "conversation" about why they couldn't be together and their friendship was too important to both of them for that kind of risk.  He left on Sunday feeling happy to have seen his best friend, but slightly discouraged, and almost vulnerable.  And he met Jaime that next week.

            Jaime was supposed to be a fling, a one night stand.  But she was nice, and pretty, and Chandler wanted to get on with his life.  And hadn't Monica once told him that the best way to get over someone was to get under someone else?  Oh no, that was his mother.  Whatever.  It was working.  

            After 2 months of dating Jaime, and 3 months after Monica had left New York, Jaime told him that she was pregnant.  At first, Chandler thought that the world was ending.  But the more he thought about it, the more he became excited to be a father.  Jaime had been talking about abortion, but he convinced her that they could do it, that they could be parents together.  He called Monica the second he found out.

            "Mon?"

            "Hey!  How's the home front?"

            "Good… great, actually… Jaime's pregnant."  There was a long pause after that.

            "Oh my god… that's so… is she-"

            "Yeah.  We're gonna have baby.  Monica… I'm gonna be a daddy."

            "Chandler that's so… I'm so happy for you!  I can't believe it, but it's great…"

            "Yeah, I was a little, ya know, me, at first, but now… I'm so happy."

            "Are you and Jaime going to-"

            "Get married?  I don't know.  I told her I'd marry her, but she said marriages for the sake of the child are never happy.  She said we should wait, and see how things play out."

            "I think that's smart," Monica said, trying to hide a sense of relief she didn't even understand.

            "You'll be here for the birth, though, right?  Jaime's due in May."

            "I wouldn't miss it for the whole entire world."

            "Oh my god… can you believe this?  You're the first person I'm telling."

            "No, I can't… but Chandler?"  
            "Yeah?"

            "You're going to make an amazing father," she finished quietly.

            "Thanks Mon.  I gotta go, but I love you."

            "Love you.  Congratulations."

            That had been nine months ago, and now Monica was seated on a plane back to New York for the first time since she'd left after receiving an emergency phone call at work; Jaime was having the baby a week early.  So much had changed.  She had established her life in Boston.  Carol and her brother were talking about a trial separation.  Some guy named Joey, who she'd yet to meet but had talked to on the phone countless times and felt like she knew, had moved in with Chandler.  Chandler was having a kid, and probably marrying this Jaime woman, who she'd met when Chandler dragged her to Boston with her so that "his best friend could meet the mother of his child".  Phoebe… well, she was the same.  

            "We will now begin our descent.  The time in New York is 5:32 pm…"

            She didn't know what to expect, but she couldn't wait to find out.

_Sorry that was a little short, but a lot happened.  The next chapter will be longer, promise __J__  Review please!!!!_


	4. She's Gone

_A.N.  Sorry for the delay!  It's summer now, though, so things should move along muuuucchhh speedier... that is if you keep reviewing!!!  Thanks for all the positive things you guys have said.  Enjoy Chapter Four!!!_

**_Disclaimer:  I don't have anything to do with anything to do with Friends._**

            Monica busted through the glass doors of the hospital at her fastest sprint.  On the elevator up the eleven floors to maternity, she bounced nervously from one foot to the other, adjusting the straps of her leather backpack nervously.  When the doors finally opened, she bounded out towards the reception area, to the relief of the other elevator passengers.  

            "Monica!" she heard Phoebe shout from behind her.  She spun around to see her best friend and a dark haired Italian looking guy coming towards her with vending machine coffees in tow.  

            "Phoebs!" she squealed.  Phoebe almost threw the cups she was carrying in the arms of her companion and ran the rest of the way to hug Monica.  

            "Where is he?  Did I miss it?" Monica asked breathlessly. 

            "The baby was born about a couple of hours ago, it's a girl, and it's fine, and so is Jaime.  Ross and Carol ran to pick up dinner, and Jaime's resting-"

            "Where is he?" Monica repeated quickly.

            "Last I saw him he was looking at the baby in the nursery," Phoebe said.

            "Thanks.  I love you," Monica said, giving her another quick hug before taking off down the hallway.

            "I'm Joey!" Joey called after her.  She turned around and backpedaled while waving and giving him a smile.  "I'm Monica!" she yelled back before taking off again.

            All he could think about was how tiny she was.  He'd read a million articles, seen a million pictures, but nothing could have prepared him for this.  She was so beautiful, so fragile.  He never realized how much he could love someone he just met.

            "Hey, daddy," a familiar voice rang out behind him.  A grin spread across his face.

            "Monica," he said before turning around.  "Monica!" he repeated, grabbing her in a huge hug.

            "I'm sorry I missed the birth," she said remorsefully.

            "No, no, please.  I'm just so glad you're here," he whispered against her hair.  They stood like that for a while, entangled in each other and in the moment, until she pulled away to look at him.

            "I can't believe you're a father," she said.

            "Neither can I," he admitted with a smile.

            "Which one is she?"

            "Okay see that nurse right there?  She's in the basket thingy to the right of the baby the nurse just picked up."

            "She's so tiny," Monica cooed.

            "I want you to hold her," Chandler said.  "But they won't let anyone in there."

            "Later.  And for a really long time, okay?"

            "Definitely."

            "So do you have a name yet?"

            "No, Jaime just never seems to want to sit down and talk about it, so…"

            "Really?" Monica asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

            "Yeah… why, is that… weird?"

            "No.  No, not at all, she probably has had a lot on her mind."

            "Yeah.  Yeah, you're right.  Actually, I was going to go bring her some flowers.  Wanna come with me to get them?"

            "I should probably go find my brother, but I'll be in the waiting room when you get back."

            "Okay."

            "Okay.  See you later," she said, instinctively giving him a friendly peck on the lips.  

            When Monica found Ross, he was surrounded by Carol, Phoebe and Joey, and they were all talking in hushed whispers.

            "Hey, what's going on?" she asked casually, joining their circle.

            "Mon… hi," Ross said, giving his sister a hug. 

"Hey!  Hi Carol!" she greeted her sister in law with another hug.

 "Um, Mon, where's Chandler?" Phoebe asked.

            "Buying flowers for Jaime."  The four exchanged pained glances.

            "Wait… what's going on?" Monica asked.  "Someone tell me what's going on.  Now." She said firmly.

            "Jaime's gone," Ross said quietly.  Monica looked at him and the rest of them incredulously.

            "Gone?  What do you mean, gone?"

            "I mean, she's not in her room, and the nurse said she checked out a half hour ago."

            "What- how is that- what do you mean _gone_?" Monica asked again, raising her voice.

            "Shh… Mon, keep it down," Phoebe said.

            "Well, why aren't we out looking for her?" 

            "We called her apartment.  Her roommate said all her stuff was gone.   And… she left this for Chandler with the nurse," Joey offered, holding a cream colored envelope.

            "Shit.  He's going to be… how are you going to tell him?" Monica asked, looking to her brother.

            "We were talking… and we think you should be the one to tell him," Ross said.  

            Monica sighed and rubbed her forehead.  "Okay.  Okay, I can do that."

            "Here he comes," Carol said quietly.  Monica turned and saw Chandler heading toward them, waving and grinning.  

            "Oh god.  Okay."  She walked toward him and grabbed his elbow.

            "Hey, Mon," he said.  "Want to say hi to Jaime?"

            "Chandler… can I talk to you for a minute?"

            "Yeah sure, in a sec.  I want to give these to Jaimes," he said, pointing to the giant floral arrangement in his arms.

            "I really need to talk to you.  Right now," Monica insisted.

            "Okay.  I'll just go put them in her room then, and be right out," he said, walking toward Jaime's empty hospital room.

            "Chandler.  She's not there," Monica called after him.  He turned slowly, as the rest of the group joined Monica.

            "What do you mean?  Where is she?  Everything… everything was okay, she was okay.  She's still okay… right?"

            "Yeah… she's fine.  She left," Monica said softly.

            "Left?" Chandler echoed. 

            "She gave this to the nurse.  It's for you," she said, walking to Chandler and handing him the envelope.  They all watched in painful silence as he read the letter and refolded it.  He looked into their expectant faces.

            "She's gone," he said dully.  "She doesn't want me to find her.  She doesn't want the baby to know her.  She's gone."

            "What did the letter-" Ross began before Phoebe shushed him.  Monica touched his arm.

            "Sweetie… I'm so sorry.  Why don't you sit down and we can talk about it?"  He shrugged her hand off.

            "I need to… I have to go for a walk.  I need to… get out of here," he said before walking quickly down the hallway towards the elevator and disappearing from their view.

_AN 2:  How was that??? My first cliffhanger.  Oh by the way… the baby's name is still up for negotiation, although I have several ideas.  Feel free to leave your own… in a review!_


	5. Have a Little Faith

AN:  I'm on a roll!!! Keep reviewing, I'll keep writing.  You guys are AWESOME!!!  Thanks for the name suggestions, I hope you like what I decided on J.  Okay, without further ado… chapter five!

_Disclaimer:  There's only so many ways to say that I don't own or am not in any way affiliated with this show._

            He read over the words for the millionth time that day.

            ****

**"Dear **Chandler******,**

**                   I'm so sorry that it had to happen like this.  I tried to tell you at the beginning that I'm just not ready to be someone's mother, but you wouldn't believe me, and what's worse, you wouldn't let me believe myself, so I let you convince me that we could do this, together.  But deep down, somewhere inside of me, I knew that I just couldn't do it, and I kept that from you.  And you might call that selfish, but we both know you didn't want to hear what I was trying to say.  **

**                   I was planning on staying for a week or two, to make sure the two of you were going to be okay, but the second I held that baby… I knew that if I held her again, it would make leaving that much harder, if not impossible.  I know that I'm leaving my daughter in the most capable of hands.  You have to understand something that I know to be true:  if I had stayed, I would have left eventually.  You know I can't be tied down.  I don't know if I want to have children with anyone- ever.  I had this child because you wanted it so badly that you convinced me it was what I wanted, too, but it's not, ****Chandler****.  I want a life outside of diapers and preschool and graham cracker crumbs- I'm only twenty five years old, for God's sake.  So my leaving now, as selfish as it may seem, is really the most unselfish thing I can do for that little girl.  She'll never know me, so she'll never miss me.  And I'll walk away from this with no strings.**

**          I don't want you to try and find me.  If you do, please know I'll leave again.  I'm moving somewhere where I can put this behind me and move on with my life, and with my career.  I did love you, ****Chandler****.  And a part of me still does.  But I think we both know that your heart was taken a long time ago by someone who isn't ready to give it back.**

**          Good luck.  And if she asks about her mother… tell her that her mom loved her so much that she had to leave.**

**                                                                                       Jaime.**

            He laughed bitterly to himself.  Unselfish.  Leaving him alone with their infant daughter, with no idea how to take care of something so small, so precious, so fragile… leaving because you couldn't _handle_ growing up.  That's about the furthest thing from unselfish there is, he thought.

            For about a half a second, he considered running, too.  How could he ever do this without Jaime?  But every time the thought crept into his mind, a terrible taste crept up the back of his throat and he pictured his innocent baby daughter sleeping peacefully in the nursery, having no idea what had already happened in her short life.  He'd die for her before he'd let her feel any pain.

            Chandler stood up slowly from the bench in Central Park he'd been inhabiting for the past hour- or was it three?  He vaguely remembered it being close to eight when he'd ran, and his watch said it was a little after midnight now.  He shook his head at his stupidity.  The guys must be going crazy.  

            "How could anyone not want you?" Monica cooed at the peacefully sleeping baby in her arms.  Everyone else had gone home to sleep, leaving strict instructions to call the minute she heard from Chandler.  The sympathetic head nurse, who had been briefed to the situation of "Baby Girl Bing", broke a few rules so that Monica could take care of the child until one or both of her parents returned.

            "You're so beautiful.  You have your daddy's eyes, you know that?  You must be so confused.  You've barely been alive for one day and already your world is changing.  Well, let me clear one thing up for you.  I'm Monica, and I'm going to love you forever.  No matter what.  Okay?"

            "Think she can hear you?" Chandler sitting down in the seat next to her.

            "Of course she can.  See these things?  Those are her ears," Monica said, trying to get him to smile.  He did, briefly.

            "How's she doing?"

            "Fine.  Sleeping like a champ," she said.  "Where the hell have you been?"

            "Walking.  Thinking."

            "I was starting to think you weren't coming back."

            "So was I," he said, inspecting his shoes.

            "I'm glad you didn't make that mistake," she said carefully.

            "I just-  I don't think I can do this, Monica," he said, his voice cracking at the end.

            "Don't say that.  Of course you can.  You know why?  Because there's a whole little life that's depending on you.  So you can't back out now."

            "I don't want to.  I love her already so much…" he said, holding back tears and letting the baby grab onto his index finger.

            "So just focus on that.  The Jaime stuff-"

            "I don't want to talk about that."

            "Okay.  So we won't talk about it.  For now," Monica replied.  

            "How am I going to make this work, Monica?  How am I going to do this all by myself?"

            "First of all, you're not all by yourself.  You have four people who stayed here until midnight worried sick about you, and one who's still sitting right here.  And all of them love that little baby.  So you are in no way on your own, do you understand that?" she said fiercely.

            "Monica… I need you."

            "I know.  I'm not going anywhere," she assured him, resting her head on his shoulder.

            "But, Boston-"

            "Do I have a best friend with a beautiful new baby who needs my help in Boston?  Chandler, I'll stay as long as you need me to."

            "Thank you.  For everything.  I love you so much," he said, kissing her head.

            "I love you too.  Here.  Hold your daughter," she said, shifting the baby to Chandler, who took her in his arms awkwardly.  He laughed nervously.

            "Look, I don't even know how to hold her," he said.  "Mon… I'm scared," he said quietly.

            "I know.  It's okay to be scared, as long as you have faith."

            "Faith in myself?  That's gonna be tough, after 20 odd years of having none."

            "Well, I have faith in you.  And look at her.  Look how peaceful she is, completely trusting.  She knows she's taken care of when she's with you.  She's got nothing _but faith in you."_

            "Faith, huh?" he said to himself, stroking the baby's cheek.  "Faith.  I kind of like that."

            "It's perfect," Monica agreed.  "Hi, Faith," she whispered, softly touching Faith's head.

            "Faith Elisabeth Bing.  After you," he added.  She grinned, tears pricking at her eyes.

            "Everything's going to be okay.  I promise," she said, giving him a hug.

_Okay, that's a wrap for this chapter!  Let me know what you think, as always.  Oh, and by the way, I don't know if Monica's middle name is Elisabeth or not, but I'm taking artistic license with that one, because it goes well with Faith.  Review!!!_


	6. Making Too Much Sense

            "Hello?" Rachel answered.

            "Rach?" Monica asked into Chandler's cordless phone.

            "Hey!  Monica!  How is everyone?  Was the baby a girl or a boy?  When are you coming home?"

            "Well, in order, okay, a girl, and I'm not sure.  Listen, some things have happened that no one really foresaw, so I think I'm going to have to stay here longer than I intended," Monica explained, closing the bedroom door.

            "Some things?  Like what?  Chandler and the baby are okay, right?" 

            "Yeah, everyone's fine, it's just… remember his girlfriend, Jaime?"

            "Blonde hair, skinny, didn't use a coaster," Rachel supplied.

            "Yeah, that's her.  She took off."

            "What do you mean… took off?"

            "Like, she left the hospital and left Chandler a note telling him not to come after her," Monica explained, rubbing her forehead.  She hadn't been this tired in a long time.

            "She just _left?  Her newborn _baby_?"  Rachel screeched incredulously._

            "Rach, I really can't talk for long, but I told Chandler I'd stick around and help him out with Faith- the baby-"

            "Yeah, of course… so I'll see you in what, like a week?"

            "He really needs me, and I'm not going to leave him in a week, so I don't know when I'll be ready to come back, that's the thing-"

            "He needs you?  Of course he does, but he has everyone else.  Mon, don't make this about something it's not.  You _want to stay, you don't have to.  Just bite the bullet and admit to yourself how you feel," Rachel said impatiently._

            "This isn't about me, or him, or feelings that you decided I have… it's about my best friend being abandoned with a two day old baby.  I'd do it for Phoebe, I'd do it for Ross, and I'd do it for you, so it has nothing to do with whatever little fairy tale you've written in your head about him," Monica argued.  

            "Okay, fine, I'm sorry," Rachel said.  "It's just… Mon, it's obvious how much he cares about you."

            "I know.  That's why I have to do this.  He's my best friend.  So listen, I'm going to mail you a check for this month's rent and next month's too… then I guess we'll take it from there."

            "Okay.  What about work?"

            "My next phone call."

            "Okay.  Good luck.  Do you need me to send you anything?" Rachel asked.

            "If you could ship over some of my clothes, that would be awesome, I only packed for two days."

            "Consider it done.  I miss you, hurry up and settle them down so you can come home," Rachel teased.  Monica laughed uncomfortably.  Because it had occurred to her that she finally _was home.  She hung up the phone and laid back on the bed, closing her eyes briefly. _

 She observed the small room that she'd taken over as her own the night before.  Joey had already moved in with Phoebe the month before, preparing for the time when Jaime and the baby would move in with Chandler.  Joey's old room was bare except for the double bed that took up most of the room.  Chandler had made it up for her with new sheets and lots of blankets, the maroon plaid flannel comforter that was her favorite thing to curl up in at his house lay on top.  Just as she was about to drift off to another fitful sleep, there was a tentative knock at the door and Chandler poked his head in, holding Faith.

            "Can we come in?" he asked.  

            "Of course," Monica said, sitting up.  

            "I finished giving her a bath and put her in the little pajamas you gave her, I wanted to show you how cute she looks in them," Chandler said, embarrassed, passing a lavender cotton onesie-clad Faith into Monica's arms.  

            "She's so beautiful.  She looks just like you," Monica said, pressing her pinky finger to Faith's button nose.

            "You think?" Chandler asked proudly.  "At first I saw mostly Jaime-"

            "No way.  Your eyes, nose and chin, all the way," Monica assured him.  "See?  Look," she began, touching the baby's chin with one hand and tracing Chandler's jaw with her other.  "Same lines here," she said, trailing her hand up Chandler's face to his nose and doing the same to the baby, "And here," she continued, looking up into Chandler's eyes.  She placed her thumbs at the corners of his eyes where they crinkled when he laughed.  "And here… I'd recognize these baby blues anywhere," she said softly.  He reached up and held one of her hands in his own, meeting her gaze.  Her heart rate quickened considerably as he moved his face in to rest his forehead on hers.  Their lips were centimeters apart.  

            "I really appreciate you-" he started

            "Don't thank me," she admonished, licking her top lip in anticipation.  Taking it as a sign, he leaned in further, just as Faith started crying.  Both were jerked out of the moment in remembrance of the baby screaming in Monica's arms.  They laughed nervously.

            "Guess someone's chaperoning," Chandler joked.  Monica stood up and began bouncing the baby around the room.  

            "Yeah.  Well, we keep saying we won't do that, and we always end up right where we said we wouldn't be," Monica rambled.

            "It was probably a bad idea," he agreed.  Faith stopped crying.

            "Yeah.  Listen, I gotta call work and go see if I can borrow some sweats from Phoebe, so…" she trailed off, handing Faith back to him.

            "Okay.  I'll see you in the morning.  And Mon-"

            "I know," she said, giving him a slight smile.  "Night."

            "You kissed???" Rachel screeched into the phone the next day.

            "_Almost kissed," Monica corrected.  "Faith cried and we stopped just in time."_

            "Just in time for _what_?  Just in time before acted on something the two of you have been suppressing since, what, _the eighties?"_

            "Shhh.  It's good that it stopped before it went too far,"

            "Let me ask you something.  How many times have the two of you kissed?"

            "Never," Monica answered.

            "And how many times have you _almost_ kissed?"

            "Counting last night?"

            "Whatever."

            "Once during college… once at a New Years party, but that doesn't really count… the time at the movies… once after he broke up with someone, once after I broke up with someone, and then the time in Boston," Monica ticked off on her fingers.

            "Mon, that's like _six_ almost kisses.  Doesn't that tell you something?"

            "Like what?"

            "Like, don't you want to see what the actual kiss would be like?  Just close the two centimeters between your lips and close your eyes!  Stop over analyzing it," Rachel whined.

            "It's definitely not a good time for anything to happen between us.  Jaime left four days ago.  He hasn't even talked about it yet, we're up all night with the baby, up to our elbows in baby powder and spit up and formula-"

            "How romantic," Rachel interjected dryly.

            "Shut up.  Did you send my stuff?"

            "Yesterday.  Did you call work?"

            "Yeah.  It didn't go well.  Apparently, they can't give their chefs maternity leave when it's not their kid," she said with sarcastic laugh.

            "So what are you going to do?"

            "I'll find another job when I get back.  Do you know how many restaurants are in Boston?"

            "About half as many as are in New York."

            "What's that supposed to mean?" Monica asked.  "I'm not staying.  I'm not."

            "Okay.  Hey, I'm going to be flying home for Thanksgiving in a few weeks… if you're still there, I'll come see you in the city."

            "Okay!  That would be awesome.  We could do Fifth Avenue," Monica said, knowing how excited her friend would be at the prospect of the world's most expensive labels lined up in a long row.

            "Consider me there," Rachel joked.  Chandler walked in with Faith from the park.

            "Hey Mon," he said.  "Oh, sorry babe," he added, indicating the phone.

            "It's all right, it's Rachel," Monica said.

            "Hi Rachel!" Chandler yelled, causing Faith to cry.  "Shit, I gotta stop doing that.  I'm gonna take her over to see Joe and Phoebs," he said, kissing Monica on the cheek.  "Did you call work?"

            "Uh, yeah.  They said to take as long as I need," she lied, covering the mouthpiece.  

            "Wow, that's great.  Okay, come over when you're off," he said, carrying his daughter across the hall.  Monica took a deep breath.

            "Rach?"

            "Two things.  First, _liar._  Second, I heard the kiss.  _And  the 'sorry babe'."_

            "On the _cheek_.  And I'm only lying for a little bit, until I… tell him.  Listen, I gotta go.  I have to warm up a bottle for Faith.  I'll talk to you soon," she said.  Rachel said goodbye, and she absent mindedly began warming the formula for the baby, thinking about all the things Rachel had said.  

            Why _was she lying to Chandler?  But more pressing in her mind was the thought that maybe she did have feelings for him, and if she did, where did she take it from there?  Her mind wandered back to Boston, and the conversation they had after the "almost kiss" experience._

            "Our friendship-" she had begun.

            "Is too important, yeah, I remember," he had finished, irritated.

            "Chandler, this was a decision we agreed on.  More than once," she argued.

            "That's just it, Mon.  More than once.  This keeps happening.  If it isn't supposed to be, then why does it keep happening?"

            "Because… I guess because we're clearly attracted to eachother," she tried.

            "It's more than that.  There's a connection.  I feel it, and I know you do too."

            "I do.  And that's why I'm not willing to risk that, for some meaningless kiss that we both know would turn into more than just a kiss,"

            "Who says it would be meaningless?  It would mean something, Monica," he said.  "It would!" he repeated off her sarcastic look.

            "Maybe it would.  But things would be awkward.  I would get controlling, and you would get commitment phobic, the same things we do in all our relationships.  And who would we have to complain to?  Would I come to you in the middle of the night crying, being like 'Chandler's being such an asshole?" she joked.

            "Joke all you want," he said seriously.  "We both know there's a chance this could work."  She was silent.

            "Yeah, you're right.  There is a chance.  But this morning, I was miserable, and then you came and surprised me, and I was so happy.  I can't gamble that happiness on a chance."  He sighed.

            "Is it always going to be like this?"

            "Maybe.  Maybe not.  I don't know," she said.  "Please don't be angry."

            "I'm not angry.  You make too much sense for me to be angry," he said smiling.

            She made sense.  Yeah, she was always good at that.  Always thinking things through, always… making sense.  She knocked over a framed picture as she reached into the cabinet for a clean baby bib.  The picture was of her and Chandler, taken a few months ago when he had come up for the weekend.  They were out to lunch with Rachel at her favorite outdoor café, and Chandler had his arm draped around Monica's shoulders.  He was wearing her favorite shirt of his, the cobalt blue one that brought out his eyes, and someone must have said something funny because they were both laughing when Rachel snapped the photograph.  She sighed, tracing their outlines in the frame as Chandler threw open the door.

            "Hey!  How's the bottle coming?" he asked as Monica, startled, put down the picture.

            "Good, good.  Coming right up."

            "That's a great picture, isn't it?" he asked with a smile.  "One of my favorites."

            "Yeah… yeah, it's a good one.  I'll be right over with the bottle," she said, pushing her hair out of her eyes.     

            "Okay," he said, flashing her another smile before closing the door.  She sighed and held her head.  

            She didn't know how much longer she could go on making sense.


	7. Just Be

**_A.N_**_.  Yay for reviews!!!  And yay for SEVEN chapters… I'm not a lots-of-chapters kind of person, because I get bored after, like, five seconds of anything, so this is a true achievement for me __J__.  Thanks for being patient about __Chandler__ and Monica getting together and all, it'll happen, and it will hopefully be worth it.  P.S., I'm also not the kind of person that knows the whole story when they start, so I'm kinda just letting it go where it goes and hoping for the best, but they WILL get together eventually (whether they'll STAY together is altogether another question, heh heh heh).  Okay, without FURTHER ado, chapter 7.  Read, enjoy, and review._

_-Maddy_

**_Disclaimer_**_:  Owning nothing, all the time._

            "So I know I've been kind of preoccupied, but what's the deal with you and Carol?" Chandler asked Ross as they sat in Central Perk with Monica, Phoebe and Joey.

            "Well, things were really rough there for a while, and I spent more than a couple nights on the couch… but actually, I have you to thank for helping things get better."

            "Me?" Chandler asked, confused.  

            "Yeah, ever since Faith was born, Carol and I have decided to start a family," Ross said proudly.  Various congratulations were given, although everyone held back their doubts that having a baby to save a marriage was never really a good idea.

            "Speaking of Faith, want me to pick her up from your mom's?  It's nearly five," Monica offered.  Chandler patted her thigh, and a familiar sensation rushed through her body.        

            "No, it's okay, I'll get her," Chandler assured her.

            "Wait, but you were gonna help me hook up the Playstation!  I can't figure it out.  You promised," Joey whined.  

            "Oh, I forgot.  Yeah Mon, if you don't mind getting Faith, I have to pay some attention to my other whining child," Chandler quipped.

            "No problem," she said standing, shrugging into her suede jacket and grabbing her purse from behind Phoebe.  "See you guys for dinner?"

            "Carol and I are going out," Ross said.

            "Date," Joey told her grinning.

            "I have to go see a movie with Sad Susan… she's been really down lately," Phoebe said with a sigh.

            "Okay then… looks like it's just you and me.  Again," she said teasingly, ruffling Chandler's hair.

            "Take-out?"

            "Sure," she replied.

            "I'll order Chinese.  But I won't ask for-"

            "Sour wontons," Monica finished, and the two of them broke into laughter.  "Okay, I'm gonna run over and get Faith, and I'll see you guys later."

            "Bye Mon," they chorused.  Once she left, Chandler noticed all eyes were on him.

            "What?" he asked defensively.

            "You guys seem… closer, or something," Phoebe noted.

            "Closer?  I don't know if there's such a thing," Ross said, rolling his eyes.

            "So you gonna ask her out, or what?" Joey added suggestively.  Ross's eyebrows shot up.

            "Ask her out?  You're- you're gonna ask her out, then?  Really?  I mean, that's fine, whatever… I'm cool," he stammered.

            "Clearly," Chandler said sarcastically, rolling his own eyes.  "Relax, no one's asking out anyone."

            "Why _not, man?  You so _obviously_ lo-" _

            "I hope you're not about to say what I think you're about to say.  Don't finish that sentence," Chandler cut Joey off.

            "Fine.  Sorry.  It just seems to me that you two spend an awful lot of time together-"

            "Taking care of my child.  She's helping me enormously, and I can't thank her enough for it," Chandler finished.

            "Chandler, come on.  You're telling me you have no romantic feelings or intentions for Monica?  Don't lie, remember I'm psychic," Phoebe challenged.

            "Nothing's happened, is happening, or will happen, as far as I can foresee.  That's all I'm saying.  Come on Joey, let's go hook up the Playstation," Chandler said, standing and tossing a few bills onto the coffee table.  He was tired of everyone's assumptions, and didn't need to be having this discussion alongside one of Monica's brother.  Chandler and Joey started to walk out of the coffee house, as Phoebe and Ross heard Joey say "So can I ask her out?  She's _hot, and I have no history or whatever with her."  Chandler just glared at him.  "So that'd be a no," Joey concluded._

            "How was she?" Monica asked, taking Faith from her grandma in Nora's seldom used Upper West Side penthouse apartment.

            "A little angel," Nora cooed, helping Monica get the baby into her jacket.  "We played patty cake and read three books, she napped, ate, and helped me play "find the adjective" in my new book, He Touched My-"

            "Wow, that sounds like a full day," Monica interrupted awkwardly.  

            "We had a lovely time, didn't we Faith?  But I was hoping to catch a glimpse of that son of mine," Nora said.

            "Yeah, he was disappointed he couldn't come get her himself, but he had other stuff going on," Monica explained as Faith wrapped her chubby hands in her ponytail.

            "Hm, I see.  Monica dear, won't you come in and stay for dinner?  I'd love to catch up, and I can't bear to part with my granddaughter if I don't have to," Nora offered, touching Monica's shoulder.

            "I wish we could, but her daddy's planning on us for dinner," Monica said.  "Another time, definitely."

            "Oh all right.  But answer me one question before you leave."

            "Of course," Monica agreed, kissing Faith on the forehead.

            "Are you two dating yet?"

            "No!  We're just friends," Monica protested.

            "Just friends, just friends, I've been hearing that from him for seven years.  Then tell me you're at _least fu-"_

            "Bye, Nora!" Monica interjected, kissing her briefly on the cheek before making a beeline to the elevator.  Once safely inside, she held Faith so she could see her face.

            "Let me tell you something right now.  Your grandma loves you very much, but she's a very strange person."

            Monica picked up Chandler's mail on the way up the stairs, and found a letter addressed to her.  She opened it and found a piece of notebook paper that said, in Rachel's messy scrawl, "Just do it already," enclosed with a single condom.  She laughed in spite of herself.  Typical Rachel.

            Halfway up the stairs, she realized that Faith had fallen asleep against her shoulder.  "Sshh"-ing her way into the apartment and past Chandler, she took the baby to her crib in the corner of Chandler's bedroom.  Monica tucked Faith in beneath her baby blankets and kissed her soft light hair.  "Sweet dreams, Faithy," she whispered before heading back into the living room.  She stopped abruptly when she saw Chandler setting the table for two, complete with candles and real plates.  He noticed her as he was spooning Chinese takeout onto their plates.

            "What?" he said laughing.  "Was my mother that bad?"

            "Well, yes, but… is this supposed to be romantic?" she asked suspiciously.  He looked at her, taken aback.

            "Why is _everyone so obsessed with that today?" he asked, throwing his hands in the air._

            "What?"

            "In the coffee house, the guys were- just talking about us like that, never mind, it was nothing," he muttered.  "Just sit down."

            Monica remained standing, a million thoughts running through her head.  The gang was talking about them getting together.  Chandler's mom thought they were a couple, or at the very _least- well, that.  Rachel, who'd met Chandler all of three times, was convinced they were soulmates.  They were signs.  She took a deep breath._

            "Chandler," she said a little too sharply.

            "Yes, Mon?" he asked, taking a step towards her.  "Are you all right?"

            "Fine.  I just wanted to tell you that I'm sick of thinking it to death, and the next time you try to kiss me, I'm not going to stop you."

            He almost laughed at her business-like approach to basically inviting him to kiss her, but something stopped him.

            "Wait a minute.  The next time _I try to kiss __you?" he asked. _

            "Well, that seems to be how it worked in the past," she said sarcastically.

            "Oh my god, you have _such_ a selective memory," he said shaking his head.

            "What are you _implying_?" she asked.

            "I'm not implying anything, I'm coming out and saying that all of those almost kisses were 100% mutual endeavors, and I seem to recall several occasions when you were the one doing most of the leaning."

            "Yeah _right_!" Monica scoffed.

            "Oh look, kids, here comes the Denial Truck!  Everyone wave to the Denial Truck!"

            "Grow _up," she said angrily.  They both glared at eachother for several moments, before promptly falling into hysterical laughter.  _

            "Why are we fighting?" Chandler asked while laughing.

            "I don't know," she admitted.  He sobered.

            "I mean, who cares who's kissing who… the point is, you're saying you want it to happen."

            "I'm not saying I _want_ it to happen," she started defensively, then sighed and tried again.  "I'm not saying I want it to happen.  What I'm saying is that I'm not going to be the one to stop it if it does.  It was a warning."

            "Oh yeah?  Thanks for the warning," he said, a smile tugging at his lips.  He inched closer to her.

            "So are you gonna do it now, or what?" she asked impatiently.

            "Now?  Right now?" he asked with a hint of nervousness in his voice.

            "Are you?"

            "I don't know.  I mean, shouldn't there be some kind of preparation?  Some kind of leading into it, I don't know if…" his voice faded out in Monica's mind as she began only to hear the voice of Rachel saying "Just do it and get it over with" over and over.  Suddenly, she crossed the distance between them and grabbed his face in her hands.

            "Chandler?  Shut the hell up," she ordered, smiling briefly before pressing her lips forcefully onto his.  

            He froze for a second.  He was kissing Monica.  Or she was kissing him, whatever, kissing was happening.  Soon he was overtaken by the sense of how incredibly _right it felt, how perfectly she fit into him, and how it seemed like he had been waiting his entire life for this one kiss.  He sunk into it, losing his hands in her soft dark hair, and as she wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, her mouth opened just slightly, inviting him.  Their tongues found eachother and it could have been a moment or a lifetime that they spent wrapped in eachother, losing their senses of time and place and losing their senses in general.  Finally, they came up for air, and they're mouths met three times in sweet little after-kisses.  _

            "Okay," Monica said, her breathing hard.  He chuckled at her, still wrapped in his arms.

            "Okay?  I'd say that was more than okay," he told her.  She smiled.

            "Yeah," she said, pecking his lips twice more.

            "Thanks for not thinking," he said, hugging her tightly.

            "Anytime," she replied, resting her head on his shoulder.

            "So… where do we-" he began.  She pulled away so that she could look at him.

            "Let's not," she said.  His face fell.

            "Let's not what?"

            "Let's not talk about what we are," she said.  He looked at her, surprised.

            "That's sort of out of character," he said, concerned.

            "I don't want to stay in character.  I don't want to talk about it.  In fact, I don't really want to talk.  At all," she finished.  He smiled, understanding, before kissing her again and leading her to his bedroom, locked in the embrace.  

            "Faith," she said, breaking the kiss.  "My room."  He nodded feverishly, picking her up and carrying her into her bedroom.

            Several hours later, she lay with her head on his shoulder as he combed his fingers through her hair.

            "Now do you want to talk?" he asked teasingly.  She smiled and buried her face in his chest.  

            "About anything except 'what we are'," she said, kissing his shoulder.

            "Don't you think we need to have that discussion eventually," he asked, closing his eyes.  He still couldn't believe she was there, in his arms, kissing his bare shoulder.  It was like a dream- no, like so many dreams- come true.

            "I don't think so," she said.  "Let's just… be."

            "Yeah, but be what?" he asked her.

            "Just be."

            "Friends who hook up?" he asked.  She turned to face him.

            "Is that what you want?"

            "Is that what _you_ want?" he countered.  He sighed and tried again.  "I'd agree to almost anything if it had to do with you, Mon, you know that.  I'd be your sex toy, your boyfriend, I'd propose, I'd tell you I loved you right now if I thought you were ready to hear it," he said.  "But you're not."  She shook her head.  

            "No.  I'm not."

            "So what do you want?  Tell me, and it's yours," he said, stroking her cheek with his finger.

            "I want you, like this.  And for now, that's enough," she said.  "Is it enough for you?" she asked, her voice sweet and caring.

            "Anything from you is enough for me," he answered.  

            "Good," she said, kissing him on the lips long and seductively.  He responded eagerly.  Faith's cries barely registered, then broke them apart.

            "Go," she said, kissing him once more.

            "Okay.  But I'll be _back," he told her, running his hand over her body._

            "You better be," she said smiling, as he left the room.

_So a lot of you should be a lot happier now.  However, all of you have to know that it can't stay this easy… so review and find out what happens next._


	8. In A Good Place

**A.N.****  Hello readers!  Chapter 8 has reared it's (hopefully not so ugly) head.  It skips to about six months later, and the next one will skip even more (I have a chronological timeline for everything and the only way to make it work in under 2,294,290 chapters is to jump around, sorry).  BUT… this one is SUPER LONG!  And it's kind of like a bunch of disjointed scenes.  I sorta went with a different approach.  I guess that's all you need to know!  Please keep reviewing, your comments help me a lot **J********

**Xoxo,**

**Maddy**

_Disclaimer:  I am in no way affiliated with anything that makes money_

        Chandler had run all the way from West 89th and was now attacking the stairs of his apartment two at a time.  Ever since Monica had decided to move back indefinitely and started working again, they'd been on opposite schedules so that at least one of them could be home with Faith as much as possible.  And today, on Wednesdays, he worked till 5, and her dinner shift started at 5:30.

          "Hey, hey hey hey hey, sorry I'm late," he said breathlessly as he bursted into the apartment.  

          "It's okay," she said as she took his briefcase and replaced it with Faith, now six months old and crawling like a fiend, grabbed her purse from the counter and breezed past him through the door before he was all the way through it.

          "Dinner's in the fridge, I'll be home around eleven, Faith hasn't eaten," she called behind her.  

          "Bye!"  He stood in the doorframe and watched her rapidly retreating figure, her dark hair flying behind her as she hurried down the stairs he just ran up.  When she was out of view, he turned to his daughter.

          "Hello, sweet pea," he told her.  "I hope you're hungry."  Faith grinned in response.  

          As Chandler was getting around to feeding Faith, Phoebe came in.

          "Hey, did Mon leave?"

          "Yeah," he answered.

          "Damn… did she tell you if she picked up my jacket when she went to the dry cleaners?"

          "No… I was late, so the exchange was pretty limited," Chandler admitted.  "I feel like I haven't seen her in days."

          The truth was, since they had slept together for the first time six months ago, things had been sort of strange between the two of them.  They weren't exactly dating, but they were definitely more than friends, seeing as he spent most nights in her bed instead of his.  Well, he did, before their schedules became so conflicted.  Sometimes it was really hard not to disturb that difficult balance that they somehow held between being best friends and lovers, but they had managed pretty well, and had also managed to keep their newfound "relationship" hidden from their friends.  From Monica's point of view, she wasn't ready to risk everything in a real relationship with him, and therefore didn't have the answers to the questions she knew would be asked.  And from his, he wanted to respect her wishes, and he didn't mind not having to reveal to her brother that he was sleeping with his sister in a pretty casual way.  They were constantly redrawing boundaries, but as they stood, they were not seeing other people, but were very careful not to use the word "exclusive", and their friendship was basically exactly the same as it was before, with a few added bonuses.

          Phoebe, clearly not interested in helping Chandler feed, bathe and watch Baby Mozart with Faith, made a quick exit, telling him she'd be around if she was needed.  

          As Chandler gently poured water over Faith's back in the bathtub, he marveled at how his life had changed so much in just six months.  He could now say without a shadow of a doubt that Jaime leaving him (which he could now talk about, after a forceful discussion on Monica's part about five months ago) was one of the best things that could have happened to him.  If she hadn't, there's no way he would be as involved with his daughter as he was, and he couldn't imagine not being the one she cried for (although on occasion, she was beginning to prefer Monica).  He stared down at his little girl, at her curly baby hair and bright blue eyes that Monica once said crinkled when she smiled the exact same way his did.  She was perfect, and she was his; she'd always be his little girl.  The idea that there could be someone in the world that he was so tied to, so bound with, excited and calmed him at the same time.  

          "Faithy, I think you're about bath-ed out for the night.  Unless the California Raisin was the look you were going for.  I must say, it does become you," Chandler joked, lifting her up and wrapping her in the towel that had been a present from Rachel.  It had a little hood with a duck's head on it, and Faith was pretty much obessed with it.  He got the baby to sleep without much problem (Monica must have taken her to the park, he concluded) and settled down to watch TV and go over some work stuff, but fell asleep within about forty seconds.  It had been a long day.

          He woke up to someone kissing his cheek.  "Mon?" he mumbled, still sleeping.

          "Hey.  You fell asleep on the couch again," she whispered, pushing his hair back from his forehead.  He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her down agianst his side.

          "No I didn't," he said yawning.

          "Okay," she said rolling her eyes.  "How was your night?"

          "Good, we ate and bathed and slept.  How was work?  I'm really sorry I was late," he apologized, kissing her temple.

          "It wasn't a big deal, I made it on time.  Work was fine, I guess," she said.  "I would have rather been here with you guys."

          "I feel like I haven't seen you in days," he said.  

          "You haven't," she pointed out.  "Aside from the frantic game of Pass-The-Baby."

          "Mon, you're a life-saver.  We'd be lost without you, and I don't know what to say or how to thank you for everything you're doing for us.  Putting your life on hold, just to-"

          "On hold?" she asked incredulously.  "I'm pretty sure it's moving forward," she said shyly.  He pecked her cheek.

          "I sorta missed ya," he told her.

          "Eh," she said with a shrug.  "Haven't really thought about it."  He shifted so he had her trapped beneath him and began tickling her as she squirmed and tried to keep her squeals as quiet as she could.  

          "Stop.  Stop!  Please, I'm begging you," she said through laughter.

          "Take it back?"

          "I take it back, I take it back," she begged.  He stopped, but then posed as if ready to start again.

          "And you missed me."

          "Of course I missed you," she said, looping her arms around his neck.  He laid his forehead on hers.  

          "You do realize we haven't had sex in five nights?" he asked her.  She thought about it for a second, and then laughed.

          "That's gotta be our record," she agreed.  He kissed her passionately.

          "You're not too tired?" she asked, surprised.  He laughed.

          "Are you kidding?  Are you?"

          "Are you _kidding_?" she replied with a sexy smile.  He brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.

          "You're so incredibly beautiful," he said softly.  "Have I told you that?"

          "Not today," she said with a grin, and they proceeded to made love right there on the couch.

          She woke up in her own bed the next morning, and upon furthur observation realized that Chandler was lying next to her.  She struggled to remember moving from the couch to the bed the night before, and when she couldn't, realized that he must have brought her in while she was sleeping.  A smile played at the corner of her lips, one that she tried to supress with everything that she had in her.  This was not a good time to get too happy.  When she got too happy, things changed, and everything was just fine the way it was.

          He stumbled out of the bedroom twenty minutes later, and ran his hand through his messy hair as he watched Monica flip pancakes with one hand and bounce Faith up and down, sticky hands clapping, with her other.

          "He's leaving, on that midnight train to Georgia," her clear voice rang out as she twirled Faith around the kitchen once.  "He said he's going back to find, going back to find, a simpler place in time, oh yes I'm gonna be right by his side-"

          "I'll be with him!  (I know you will)…" Chandler chimed in with high soprano tones.  She jumped about three feet then burst into laughter.

          "Don't stop, you were rockin that one," he said with a smile, taking Faith and kissing her head.  Monica shrugged.

          "She likes a little Motown in the morning, what can I tell ya.  Get in the shower, breakfast's almost ready," she ordered.

          "Sure, but one thing first," he said, setting Faith in her playpen in the living room.  

          "What?" she asked as he came toward her and suddenly grabbed her around the waist and dipped her, giving her a soft kiss on the lips.  When he brought her back up, she was giggling.

          "We said we wouldn't do that kind of thing in front of the baby," she admonished.  "It'll confuse her."

          "She won't tell, she can't talk yet," he teased.  "That was for last night, by the way.  And because…" he took a deep breath, closed his eyes and grabbed the spatula from her hands, using it as a microphone.  "I _know_ you wanna leave me, but I refuse to let you go-" he sang loudly, wiggling his hips.  

          "Shut up," she said laughing, shooing him into the bathroom as he hummed the rest of the song.  Phoebe and Joey walked into the apartment, arguing about who used the last clean towel.

          "I use only one towel per week, so it was obviously you, a multi towel user, who screwed the system up," Joey said.

          "First of all, that's disgusting, and second of all, good morning," Monica greeted them, handing them each a plate of pancakes.

          "Hey Mon, I knew something smelled good," Joey said, thanking her for the food with a kiss on the cheek.

          "Phoebs, I have your coat, I'm sorry I didn't bring it over last night over work but I got kinda… distracted," she finished, handing Phoebe the cellophane wrapped jacket she picked up for her the day before.

          "No problem.  What were you doing?"

          "Nothing.  I don't know.  Syrup?" she said uncomfortably.

          "Sure, thanks," they chorused.

          "Mon, do you remember what happened to my shirt last night-" Chandler asked, exiting the bathroom in a towel.  "Oh, uh hey guys," he stammered, seeing Joey and Phoebe.

          "I, um, hung it up in your room after I got the stain out," Monica covered quickly.

          "Okay!  Great!  Thanks!  I'll get dressed then," he said, hurrying into his room.

          "Oh, wait a second," Joey said, squirming and reaching into the couch cushion beneath him.  "Here's a shirt," he said proudly, pulling it out.  Monica grabbed it from him.

          "Ugh, he's such a mess, leaving everything all over," she said nervously.

          "Well, luckily he has you to clean up after him and raise his child," Phoebe said, rolling her eyes.  Monica smiled uncomfortably.  Things were getting complicated.

          A few days later, Rachel was in town on a visit and bringing the remainder of Monica's stuff from Boston.  The two of them were hanging out in the apartment with Faith.

          "She got so much bigger from Thanksgiving!" Rachel gushed.

          "Yeah, she's growing so fast," Monica agreed, smoothing Faith's hair.

          "She's beautiful."

          "And so well-behaved.  She's such an easy baby," Monica said.

          "And what's going on with you and the baby's dad?"

          "No new developments," Monica answered, her cheeks flushing.

          "You're blushing.  You_ love_ him," Rachel teased.

          "No, no no no no.  I do _not_ love him.  We're having fun, that's it."

          "Okay.  Whatever you say.  So, how much fun are you having?" Rachel asked slyly.

          "A lot," Monica admitted.  "We're just… we're in a really good place right now, in friendship and in… the other stuff."

          "Good.  I'm happy for you.  I just think that you're going to get to a place where one or both of you wants more than… than whatever you're doing right now."

          "Maybe we will.  I'm just not projecting," Monica said as Chandler walked in the door.

          "Not projecting what?" he asked.

          "Nothing.  We're going out to dinner with everyone at seven," she told him.

          "Hi Rach!" he said, kissing her on the cheek and loosening his tie.  "Seven?  Do I need to wear a jacket?"

          "No, just a nice shirt.  Your mom's taking the baby."

          "Great.  Thanks for arranging that, I'll bring her over," he said, taking Faith from Monica's lap and giving her a hug.  "Hey baby.  Have a good day with the girls?"  Faith grabbed his nose.  "I think that's a yes."

          "We had a good day," Monica agreed.  

          "Good.  Hey, can I talk to you for a second?  Rachel, could you hang out with her for a minute, would you mind?" he asked, passing Faith back.

          "Would I mind?  Look at her little fingers!" Rachel squealed.  Monica laughed and followed Chandler to his room.  Once they were inside, he pushed her against the door and kissed her passionately.  She put her hands on the sides of his face and responded eagerly.

          "I… couldn't stop thinking about… you… today," he said in between kisses.  She moaned and pulled him closer, tightening her arms around his neck.  He started walking her over to his bed, but she pushed him away.

          "We can't," she said breathlessly.  "Rachel."

          "She'll understand," he said, reaching for her again.  They kissed several more times before Monica sighed and broke away again.  "Not now," she repeated.  "You have to get dressed and get Faith to your mom's.  It's nearly six."  He groaned.

          "Fine.  But later on, you better be ready," he joked.  She rolled her eyes.

          "I'll try to prepare myself," she said sarcastically, kissing him quickly before she walked out of the room, back to Rachel and Faith.

          "And then, he stuck his head in the freezer and got his cheek stuck to the side," Joey finished, roaring with laughter as he regaled Chandler, Monica, Rachel, Ross, Carol and Phoebe with his favorite story about how Chandler accidentally ate a jalepeno pepper while they waited for their entrees.  Chandler nodded along good naturedly.

          "Dude… jalepenos aren't even that hot," Ross said, trying not to laugh.  

          "I have sensitive taste buds!" Chandler defended himself.  Monica, to his right, laughed and placed her arm around his shoulder.  "It could have happened to anyone," she reassured him.

          "Not anyone I know," Rachel joked.  "It's really great to see you guys again.  I always have such a good time when I'm here," she added.  

          "We're glad you could make it," Monica said warmly, smiling at her friend.

          "Yeah, we have a great time when you come too," Ross added.

          "I'd have a better time if you agreed to just sleep with me already, but whatever," Joey said with a mock sigh.  Phoebe elbowed him.

          "Not gonna happen," Rachel said, rolling her eyes.  "But, I did want to tell you guys something."

          "You'll sleep with Chandler?  No fair!" Joey teased.  Chandler smiled briefly and Rachel looked at Monica uncomfortably.

          "Shut up, Joey," she said.  "As I was saying… I'm moving to New York in a few weeks!"  The group congratulated her excitedly.  

          "Oh my god!  This is so great!  Where are you gonna live?" Monica asked.  She tried to ignore Chandler's hand that came to rest on her upper thigh, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as he started to massage her leg.

          "I don't know yet, I'm still working on that," she admitted.

          "Well, I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you guys I'm moving downtown," Joey said, raising his left hand.

          "What?  You're moving out???  How could you not tell me?" Phoebe asked, annoyed.

          "I just decided a few days ago!  I'm making a lot of money now with the show and all, and I found a really nice place closer to work.  I'm sorry Phoebs," he said.  "But now Rachel can move in!"

          "Really?  Rach, you want to live with me?" Phoebe asked excitedly.

          "Uh… _YEAH!"__ Rachel said grinning.  "This is gonna be awesome!"_

          "It so is!" Monica agreed, discreetly reaching under the table and firmly taking Chandler's hand off her leg.  He smiled a secret smile and put it back, slightly higher.  She shook her head and laughed.

          "What's so funny?" Ross asked.  Monica felt Chandler, spooked, remove his hand quickly.

          "Oh, Chandler was just had his hand-" she started, trying to freak him out.

          "Touching some gum under the table.  Gross," he finished, kicking her ankle.

          "Yeah.  Gross.  Go wash your hands," she said meaningfully.

          "Okay…" he said, getting up from the table.  A few seconds later she excused herself, saying she had to go to the bathroom.  She snuck up behind Chandler in the mens room, locking the door behind her.

          "_You_, sir, were being very fresh out there," she said, wrapping her arms around him from the back.

          "Mon, what are you-"

          "I think you need to be taught a lesson, don't you?" she said.  He grinned.  

          "I think you may be right," he said, backing her up against the counter.  "How much time you think we have?"

          "I'd say, oh, about six minutes," she estimated, checking her watch.

          "We better stop talking, then," he said, leaning in and kissing her.

**That's it for now.  HOW LONG WAS THAT… some kind of personal record, I'm not gonna lie.  Review.  A lot.  Please.  Thank you ****J******


	9. Over

**Chapter 9!!!  Sorry for the delay to those of you who are still at _all _interested in this, but I made it even longer than the last one, so that's why.  And I'm warning you right now, most of you aren't going to like the way this chapter ends, but please please please bear with me, I'm going somewhere, and I promise you'll be happy at the end, because I don't do sad endings, okay?  Good.  Now that that's settled… read and PLEASE REVIEW!!!**

**~MADDY~**

Disclaimer:  I don't own them or anything silly like that.  

            "Can I ask you something?" Chandler began, playing with the label on his beer.  He was sitting in the living room with Monica watching the Knicks on TV, having put Faith to bed almost an hour ago.

            "Sure," she said absently, leafing through that month's InStyle.  "What's up?"

            "I was just thinking a lot recently… about stuff," he said, a hint of nervousness in his casual demeanor.

            "Mm-hmm," she responded, flipping the page, obviously engrossed in which sandals to wear in various situations.  

            "Can you put that down for a second?" he asked, slightly irritated.  "I'm trying to say something."  She looked up, surprised.  

            "Yeah, of course," she said, tossing the magazine onto the coffee table.  "What's going on?"

            "I was just thinking a lot lately, especially since Faith's birthday, and I wanted to make sure we're still on the same page," he said, still picking at the label.  She took a deep breath.

            "Oh.  Okay.  Yeah, that's a good idea."

            "All right.  Because, I mean, it's been a year, that you've been back.  And it's been what… ten months since we started being- well whatever we are, I guess that's the question."

            "That's not a question," she joked, then sobered off his look.

            "Mon, I'm serious here," he said quietly.  

            "I know.  I guess I just don't really know what you're asking."

            "Neither do I, really… I guess I just was wondering since you know, the incident at the party, if you ever… think about-"

            "I thought we talked about that and were fine," she interrupted.

            "We did… we were."

            "Were?"

            "Yeah.  Mon, listen… this year has been the most amazing year of my life, and it began so questionably.  When Jaime left, I thought that that was it for me.  I was going to leave her, Mon.  For like five seconds, I actually considered leaving my own daughter."

            "But you _didn't.  That's what matters," she said, taking his hand reassuringly._

            "I know that now.  I know that, because of you.  You're the reason I'm here, that we're both here, you're the reason Faith didn't fall off of her changing table that first month or choke on some stupid thing I left lying around.  And you're the reason I learned those things, the reason I can do it on my own now.  But you're also the reason I never want to have to," he said, looking in her eyes.

            "Chandler… you're a good father because you were meant to be one, and because you love her more than you love yourself.  It has nothing to do with me," she told him.

            "You're wrong.  It has everything to do with you.  If you had gone back to Boston three weeks into this thing… I know we'd be fine, I know I'd love her just as much and that the other guys would have helped me out as much as I needed them to… but it would have been so much different, and soemtimes when I think about how things could have gone, I just want to cry," he admitted.         "I guess I'm saying that you're the best friend that anyone could ever hope to have."  She held her hand to her heart, touched by his sentiment.

            "Chandler… if I'm that great of a friend, it's only because you taught me to be that way," she insisted.  

            "The point of this," he continued, ignoring her last statement, "is that ten months ago, whether we want to admit to it or not, you became more than just my friend, Monica.  The second we kissed, I started keeping a secret from you.  I didn't tell you the one thing I knew to be true that first night we were together, which is that I knew friendship was never going to be enough for me anymore."

            "Chandler… I thought we agreed that-"

            "We would stay friends, and if this became a problem for either one of us that we'd stop.  I know."

            "Is that what you want?" she asked.  He looked at her.  Her hair was haphazardly pulled back from her face leaving several strands too short for the elastic falling around her face.  Her skin was lightly bronzed from the early summer weather.  Her knees were pulled up and hugged close to her chest, her face, eyes slightly squinted, mouth slightly open, held an expression that mixed concern, anxiety and sympathy.  God, that was so far from what he wanted.  

            "No.  That's not what I want," he said.  

            "Okay, good, because that's not what I want either."

            "What _do you want?" he asked, almost frustrated.  "Because it seems we spend an awful lot of time talking ourselves in circles and never really get to that."_

            "I want… I want what we have.  This is perfect, right now, Chandler, or it was-"

            "What we have now and what we had ten months ago is glaringly different, Monica, and if you'd just admit it to yourself-"

            "Of course it's different, a lot changes in ten months.  Everyone knows, for one thing."

            "Yeah, everyone knows.  Everyone knows what?  That we screw, on occasion?"

            "Chandler, what is this?" she asked, reaching for his arm, taken aback by his bitterness.  He sighed.

            "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean that."

            "Yes, you did," she said softly.  "Why can't you just tell me what you want to say?"         

            "Okay.  Listen, I don't want to screw up what we have.  I told you I'd give you whatever you wanted, and I meant it.  But at Faith's birthday… my mother's friend, when she said… when she said we…"

            "Made a beautiful family," Monica finished.  "Why can't you say it?"

            "Because I wanted it, okay?" he said, raising his voice at her utter inability to see what he felt.  "Because I wanted us to be a family, when she said that, I wanted you to be my wife, and Faith's mother… and do you have any idea how close 'Mon' and 'Mom' sound?  You have to have noticed that, Monica.  When she says Mon, you have to realize what it sounds like she's saying to people who don't know us.  And every time she says it, which is about eight billion times a day, I get this pang, right here," he says, gesturing his heart, "because she doesn't know that you aren't her mom, or even what a mom is… she knows Mon, she knows what you are to her, she knows you are the person who kisses her when she cries and feeds her when she's hungry and helped her learn to walk and comes in when she's afraid… and that's all she needs to know.  And I wish that was all I needed to know, Monica, I really do."

            "What do you need to know?" she asked, tears glistening in her eyes.  "Ask me, and maybe I can give you an answer.  God, Chandler, of course I got freaked out when she said my name.  But I love her, Chandler, that's what I give her, that's what she needs, and that's why she doesn't have to wonder about anything.  So what do _you need?  What am I not giving you, where have I somehow fucked this up?" she asked, raising her own voice.  "Because I really don't know where this is coming from.  What do you need to know?" she finished, wiping her eyes._

            "Do you love _me?" he blurted out.  There.  He'd done it.  After ten months of sleeping together, raising a child together, spending every free moment together, neither had said that word.  She half laughed, shook her head._

            "God, Chandler, of course I do," she started.

            "No, Monica.  Not like that.  Not like a best friend.  I told you ten months ago you weren't ready to hear this, but I don't care anymore.  I love you.  Okay?  I do.  And you knew that, and I knew that, but what I don't know is if you feel the same way.  Because us, you and me, the way it is now, is fine, it's great, I love what we are.  But if you don't see, somewhere down the road, giving me more of yourself than you are right now, I don't know what we're doing," he finished, rambling out all the words he had been holding in for longer than he cared to remember.  He looked at her.

            "Chandler… I wanted this to be simple.  I wanted it to be fun, and easy, and it was.  Because I wasn't, and I'm still not, at a place in my life where I wanted to be tied down.  That's why I left New York in the first place.  But it happened, didn't it?  I am tied… to you, to Faith, to our friends, to this city, to my life here, as it has been for the past year.  So," she said, looking at him in the eyes, "if you're asking me if I think there may be a day, somewhere down the road, when I'm ready to say that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, then yes, I do think that's a possibility.  If you're asking me if that day is today, then… no.  I'm sorry, but it's not."

            "Okay," he said, slightly hurt though he didn't know why.

            "Chandler… please.  I do love you.  I always have, and on some level, I know I always will.  What we have is special, this connection, and it's not something I'm going to lose without a fight."

            "You're not losing anything," he said gently.  "I asked if you saw us having a future someday, and you told me what I needed to know.  For now… that's fine," he told her.

            "Are you sure?" she asked, eyes filling again.  "Because I don't want you to feel held back-"

            "Monica, you're 26.  I'm not proposing.  I just wanted to know, that's all."

            "Okay," she said, sniffling.

            "Okay," he mimicked, smiling.  She smiled back.

            "Come here," she said, pulling herself up onto his lap and wrapping her arms around him, their foreheads resting together.

            "I do love you," she said quietly.

            "I know," he said.  She kissed him softly, sweetly.  

            "So that's enough?"

            "Anything from you is enough," he told her, echoing words spoken months, maybe lifetimes, earlier.  This time, she knew in her heart he was lying.

            Monica was having coffee the next morning across the hall in Phoebe and Rachel's apartment.

            "Mon, you okay?  You look exhausted," Rachel commented.

            "Yeah… I didn't get much sleep," she replied.

            "Ooooohhhh, hot night?" Phoebe teased.  

            The rest of the gang had found out about Monica and Chandler's "sordid affair", as Ross pronounced it, several months earlier, by complete accident.  Phoebe had walked in on them making out on the couch on the first occasion they forgot to lock the door, and news had travelled fast, as it always had within their group.  Ross was, of course, furious at first, and no one really understood why they refused to call eachother their "girlfriend" or "boyfriend", why they remained little more than best friends with benefits, and why they were exclusive yet wouldn't label it "dating".  Eventually, the pair just decided to stop answering their questions, which caused them to die down.  Now their relationship was out in the open and just one more thing for the group to roll their eyes at and one more aspect of their living arrangement to say "now that's dysfunctional" about.  

            "Haha… yeah not so much," Monica said, sighing.

            "What's wrong?" Phoebe asked, concerned about her friend.

            "Nothing… Chandler and I had kind of an intense discussion last night.  A 'where-is-this-going, what-are-we-doing kind of discussion."  The two girls groaned.

            "Well, I must say, I called that one," Rachel pointed out, referring to months earier when she had predicted one of them would get antsy for more comittment.

            "It was just… so out of the blue.  I thought we were fine, with what we were."  Phoebe and Rachel exchanged a look.  "What?" Monica asked, observing their expressions.

            "Nothing, just… what _are you, exactly?" Phoeb asked, as delicately as she could.  Monica sighed._

            "I don't know.  Friends, I guess, above all else, but… there's more there."

            "What tipped you off to that one, besides the nightly sex?" Rachel asked sarcastically, rolling her eyes.  Monica swatted her arm.

            "Shut up," she said.  "And not _every night, by the way."_

            "Monica, seriously… what do you see this evolving into, if anything?" Phoebe asked.

            "God, now you sound like _him," Monica said exasperadedly._

            "Well of course he wants to know that, Mon, I mean come on… he's only been completely in love with you for the past six years," Phoebe exclaimed.  Monica looked at her, startled.  "What?  Come on, you _had to know that.  __Everyone knew that."_

            "_I_ knew that, and I only met him last year," Rachel added.

            "You're deluded," Monica said, standing to clear their breakfast dishes.

            "No, that would be you.  Monica, it's so obvious… the fact that he barely had two serious relationships in six years, and the fact that every time you did he'd act all weird and posessive, and how he used to be all touchy with you all the time, and how whenever you would just walk into the room it was like so obvious that that was just the _best_ part of his day," Phoebe rambled.

            "Did he tell you this?  Did he actually come out and _tell you all this stuff, or did you come up with it on your own?" Monica demanded._

            "He didn't have to tell me, it's so _obvious... ask anyone.  We talk about it all the time."  Monica looked at her sarcastically._

            "Thanks."

            Later that day, Monica was at work, but couldn't stop thinking about her conversation with Phoebe and Rachel earlier that morning.  The thought of Chandler spending six years pining after her, even though she really didn't believe it, completely unnerved her.  Because, she thought, it totally changed everything about their relationship.  If that was true, it was no longer a mutual attraction, stumbled across when they were forced into close living quarters, something that came spontaneously and that neither of them had been expecting, and had grown from there; no, if this was true, it meant that that night, the night they kissed for the first time, it was spontaneous and completely attraction based for _her, but for _him_… it was like he had _thought_ about it, probably _fantasized_ about it, and that just made the whole thing totally weird._

            And, she pointed out to herself, if by some chance they were right about this, it would mean that he'd been dishonest with her.  Honesty was the one pillar of their friendship that she valued almost above everything else, and he had been so far from honest.  She had to ask him about it.  And it could very well change everything.  But she had to know.

            "Thanks for meeting me," Monica said as Chandler kissed her cheek and took his seat across from her at the restaurant they had chosen to meet at for lunch.

            "Of course, it was a nice surprise in my otherwise completely predictable day," he said.  "Joey has Faith, so I'm going to leave my cell on," he joked, but, she noticed, did turn on the phone and leave it next to his water glass, just in case.

            "So, how's your day?" he asked her.  She cleared her throat.

            "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something."

            "Okay.  I think it's your turn, after the discussion I spurned last night," he said smiling.

            "Phoebe mentioned something this morning… and I'm not going to lie to you, it's really been freaking me out…" she began awkwardly.  He took her hand on top of the table.

            "What's going on?"

            "It's just… were you in love with me for the entire six years before all this started?" she blurted out nervously.  She watched him, gauging a reaction.  His blue eyes clouded over, and his features tightened.  His anxious face.

            "Why-why-why would you ask me that?" he stammered.

            "You didn't answer me."

            "What was the question again?"

            "Chandler."

            "Sorry.  Okay, listen… it wasn't the _entire six years," he started, and removed his hand from his instinctively.  "It was more like… five and a half.  And it wasn't like torturous, all-consuming, I'm going to die if I don't have you kind of love… at least not until a little while before you went to Boston."  She shook her head in disbelief._

            "You lied to me," she said sadly.

            "What?  I didn't lie to you.  I just didn't tell you."

            "It's the same thing.  Chandler… this changes _everything."_

            "Why?  Why does it change everything?"

            "Because our entire relationship is based around a lie.  I thought that we were on the same page, that we got together out of the blue as a result of mutual attraction, and now I find out that you were… what?  How do I even say it… secretly _pining_ for me for basically my entire adult life?  That puts us in opposite corners.  Because oh my god," she said, realization coming over her face.  "Of _course_ you wanted to know where this was going.  It seemed soon for that discussion to me, but for you… for you it's been six years in the making."

            "Monica, you're blowing this way out of proportion."

            "Am I?" she asked, rising.

            "Wait, where are you going?" 

            "I have to get out of here," she said, making her way out of the restaurant.  He caught up to her outside and grabbed her wrist.

            "Monica, don't do this.  Don't run away when things get complicated."

            "I'm not running.  I'm choosing."  His face drained of color.  He cleared his throat.

            "Choosing… choosing what?"  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly.

            "Choosing to end this now before one of us gets hurt."

            "Monica, you can't-"

            "Chandler, please.  Our friendship is too important to me.  And I should have taken that into consideration before any of this began.  I can't lose you.  And this entire thing showed me that I could, so easily, with one mistake, one count of dishonesty… and I can't do that."

            "But I need you-" he argued, pleadingly.  She put her index finger to his lips.

            "I need you too.  That's why this needs to happen.  Chander… I want us to be friends.  Best friends.  I want to be there for Faith as much as I have been, I want to keep living with you… but how we started out.  We had the right idea then, don't you think?" she asked, her voice raising at the end in a plea for him to agree and salvage what was left of their friendship.  He paused momentarily, and then gave her what she wanted, as he promised her more than once he would always do.

            "Yeah.  You're probably right," he said, his heart breaking with every word.  She sighed in relief and gave him a huge hug, refusing to admit that hers had, too.


	10. Moving On Sort Of

**AN:  Wow, I thought people may have given up on this ****J**  Thank you SO much for all the reviews.  They definitely inspire me to write faster!  And to those of you extremely um, upset with me right about now… RELAX!!  The best is yet to come!****

**            It had been a month since he'd kissed her.  That was the only thought running through his mind while he watched her brush his daughter's hair, trying unsuccessfully to keep Faith, who was getting pretty good at the whole walking thing, to stay still.  **

          "Faith, stop.  One more second, come here," Monica said, exasperated, pulling the almost-toddler back into her lap and struggling with the little barettes that held her honey blonde hair back.  

          "Mon, want.  Want," Faith said, twisting to look at her captor.

          "Want what?  Chandler, she's really mastered the concept of "want", but we may have to teach her to express herself a little further," Monica said with a laugh.  Chandler brought himself back to real time and joined in with a laugh of his own.  

          "Don't you have to go to work?  I'll take care of this," Chandler offered, reaching down and picking up Faith, hair finally pulled back.

          "Yeah, actually I do.  But I wanted to talk to you about something first, and I really hope it's not weird."

          "Okay… what's up?" he asked, setting Faith in her high chair with toast and jelly.

          "Well, it's about Joey's play, on Friday.  I sort of have a… friend, coming with me," she said uncomfortably.  Chandler froze, hovering over Faith as he set her up, then turned around slowly.

          "A friend like you and I are friends?" he asked, trying to keep all sarcasm out of his voice, because it was a valid question.

          "No.  Actually… not really a friend at all.  His name is Steve.  He works with Rachel," she said.  

          "Blind date?" he asked, still trying to gauge the situation.

          "We've met.  It's not really a date," she tried.  He looked at her pointedly.

          "If it wasn't a date, we wouldn't be talking about it, would we?"

          "I guess not," she agreed after a pause.  "It's just, we've been doing really well, with everything, and I don't want this to be a problem.  It's not, is it?  Because, if it is-"

          "No, no, it's not a problem.  Not at all.  Actually… I might have a date for the play, too," Chandler lied.  Monica looked at him, surprised.

          "Really?  Oh.  Well, then, that works out perfectly, I guess.  Were you… ever going to tell me about her?"

          "What?  Yeah, of course I was, I was waiting for the right… time?" he tried, accompanied by a classic Chandler face contortion.

          "Okay.  Well, I guess I'll just meet her Friday, then," Monica concluded, grabbing her bag and heading for the door.  Was that a hint of jealousy in her voice?

          "Bye," he offered.

          "Bye!" she responded sunnily.  Nope, it wasn't.

          'He "might have a date too"?  _Might_?  What the hell was that about?', Monica thought obsessively for the six hundreth time that day at work.  Saying that you _might have a date implied that there was someone you'd been thinking about for a while, someone in mind who you might __ask.  Was she someone from work, she wondered absently, mentally kicking herself for allowing these slightly jealous thoughts to take over her entire day.  So what if he has a date?  Who cares?  So did she.  And Brian was really, really nice, and cute, and he seemed smart.  And he seemed mature and together.  Yeah, she could definitely tell they were good for eachother.  Wait… was his name Brian or Ryan?  Whatever._

          Later that day, Monica and Joey were talking in the kitchen while she made dinner.  

          "What kind of salad is that?  Because I don't like green things," Joey asked anxiously, looking over her shoulder.

          "Yours is separate," she said, rolling her eyes and gesturing to the small bowl of tomatoes, onions, peppers and mushrooms she had put aside for Joey's non-green salad.

          "Okay.  _Phew_," he said, in all seriousness.

          "Yeah, you may have actually had to eat something… _green_!" Monica teased, tossing the salad.

          "I know.  Close call."  She smiled.

          "Hey Joe…" she began, then changed her mind.

          "What?"

          "Never mind.  Nothing."

          "No, really, come on… what?" he urged her, taking a piece of the bread she was slicing.

          "Well, it's no big deal, I was just wondering if you knew anything about this date Chandler has for your play."

          Joey scoffed.  "Date?  Chandler?  Yeah right."

          "He told me he was probably bringing a date… you haven't heard anything about it?"

          "Nope.  I can't believe he didn't tell me.  Weird."

          "Yeah.  So… do you think she's someone from work, or what?"

          Joey eyed Monica suspiciously.  "Why?"

          "I don't know, just curious I guess," she said casually, shrugging.

          "Okay.  Because, I mean, Rachel told me you're bringing someone, so you really can't-"

          "Be jealous or upset or catty, I know, I know.  It's not that," he looked at her, unconvinced.  "It's not!"

          "Okay."

          "Okay."

          "So, who's your date?" Joey asked, teasingly.  Monica tensed.

          "Just… some guy from Rachel's work.  Brian.  Ryan!  Why do I keep doing that?" she asked herself incredulously.

          "You two have met before?"

          "Yeah, a few months ago, when I was with… well, when I was whatever, with Chandler."

          "Ah, yes, when you were "whatever" with him," Joey mocked.

          "Shut up," Monica replied good naturedly, swatting him with her dishtowel.  He paused, opened his mouth, and closed it.  Then started again.

          "Can I ask… is this guy why you're not "whatever" with him now?"

          "What?  Joey.  No.  You think I was cheating on him?"

          "Not cheating, it woulnd't have been cheating.  I was just wondering if you stopped being whatever with Chandler so you could be whatever with Brian."

          "Ryan.  And the answer to your question is absolutely not.  If that were true, why would I have waited a month?" she asked, hand on one hip.

          "True," Joey agreed.  "Sorry."

          "It's okay," she said quietly.  "It… it just didn't work, Joey."  Her eyes welled with tears.  He went around the counter and gathered her in his arms.

          "I know.  It's okay, Mon.  I know."

          She composed herself and they seperated, making more small talk and pretending as if their previous conversation hadn't occurred at all.

          The week passed quickly, everyone busy with their jobs and personal responsiblities.  On Friday night, the group had planned to go out to dinner before Joey's stage debut (minus Joey himself, who had to be at the theater and hour earlier).  So Rachel, Phoebe, Ross, Carol, Monica and Ryan and Chandler and his date, Lucy from marketing, sat at the table at Café Blue, one of the city's newest hot spots, as they ate their meals.

          "So, Ryan… what do you do, again?" Ross asked politely.

          "I'm vice president of sales at Bloomingdales," he answered.  Phoebe elbowed Monica discreetly, hissing "discount" so that only she could hear.  Monica kicked her in the ankle.

          "Bloomingdales, huh?" Chandler asked condescendingly.  Rachel jumped in before it could get awkward.

          "Yeah, Ryan actually had a lot to do with me getting hired."

          "That's great," Chandler muttered.  Monica stared at him.

          "Lucy.  How did you and Chandler meet?" she asked briskly.

          "Well, actually, earlier this week-"

          "We got to talking about how we'd known eachother for a while and thought it was about time we got together outside of work," Chandler cut in quickly.  Lucy looked confused for a minute, but covered well.

          "Yeah.  That's pretty much it," she said.  Monica forced a smile and excused herself.

          "Is… she okay?" Ryan asked the group of friends, confusion washing over his features.  Chandler stared down, suddenly fascinated by his napkin ring.

          "She's fine," Rachel assured him.  "Right?"  

          "Yeah, you know what?  I'll go check on her, make sure she's feeling all right," Carol added, leaving the table.  

          Carol caught up to Monica at the payphones, leaning against the wall with her eyes closed and her hand to her head.  She touched her shoulder.

          "Monica?  Are you all right?" she asked.

          "Yes, I'm fine… thanks Carol."

          "Are you sure?" she asked, unconvinced.

          "Yes.  You really don't have to worry, I'm fine," Monica tried again, smoothing the ruffled hem of her red skirt.

          "It's Chandler," Carol persisted.

          "Carol, please.  I don't want to do this right now," she pleaded.

          "You can _talk to me, I'm your sister-in-law!" Carol pleaded right back.  Monica paused._

          "I know I can talk to you," she said, sighing.  "I guess I'm just not ready for this."

          "For Ryan, or for Lucy?" Carol asked with a wry smile.

          "I guess I thought I was ready for Ryan before there was a Lucy," Monica admitted.  "It's just weird."

          "Weird is an appropriate word.  But… I mean, you ended it, Mon.  You have to… I don't know how to say this without upsetting  you."

          "Say it.  I promise I won't get upset," Monica urged.

          "You ended it.  You have to let him… move on," she finished, giving her arm a consoling squeeze.

          "I know.  I know I'm being unfair, and I'm not trying to be.  I don't want to be with Chandler… I just don't want Lucy to be.  Is that _terrible_ or what?" Monica smiled ruefully.

          "I'd say it's natural," Carol said.  "It's going to take a while, Monica.  But I think you're doing the right thing, jumping back out there.  Ryan seems really nice."

          "Yeah, you're right.  He does."

          "So, let's go back to the table, get through dinner, suffer through another one of Joey's mind-numbing performances, and then you can end this warped double date and move on from there."  

          Monica smiled gratefully.  "Thank you," she said sincerely.

          "Any time."  The two made their way back to the table.

          In the days following the "warped double date", Monica became more and more convinced that Carol was right; she just needed to get back out there.  She had lunch with Ryan and enjoyed herself, even though she wasn't letting herself admit that she was enjoying herself as a friend would enjoy another's company and nothing more.  After two kisses on the cheek, and one botched hand holding attempt, she decided it was time for a real, one-on-one, get dressed up and go out date.  She informed Chandler of her plans for Friday night on Wednesday, to make sure he didn't need her for Faith, and his response was "Oh.  Okay.  I'm taking Faith to my mom's that night because Joey and I have hockey tickets."  It was Friday, and they hadn't spoken beyond "have you changed her?", "pass the milk", or "this letter came for you" since.  Monica wasn't happy about it, but she decided it was just natural awkwardness that would pass with time.

          The date went surprisingly well.  Monica and Ryan seemed to have pretty good chemistry, he laughed at all the right places and they shared a sense of humor and taste for chocolate desserts.  He walked her home, and when he went in for the goodnight kiss, she shocked herself by letting him follow through.  The kiss was… really weird, but not entirely bad weird.  Different weird, she decided.  

          "I had a really good time tonight," Ryan told her genuinely after they parted.

          "So did I.  Thanks for everything."  He checked his watch          

          "It's only ten," she said after consulting hers.  "Do you want to come up for coffee?" she asked.  Might as well make the most of this whole moving on experience.  He looked hesitant.

          "I would love to…"

          "But…?" she asked.

          "But, I get a feeling your roomate hates me," he concluded.  "Just a weird vibe at dinner the other night."  She sighed.

          "Chandler… he's kind of protective, I guess," she half-lied.  He _was protective.  But that wasn't why he hated Ryan. "And besides, he's not home."_

          "Okay, because it sort of felt like ex-boyfriend tension, I'm going to come right out and say it," Ryan told her.  Monica shifted uncomfortably, her fingers twisting a stray lock of hair.

          "Chandler and I… had something once, but I'm not even sure what it was, and it's over, and honestly I really don't want to talk about it, so-" 

          "Okay.  Coffee," Ryan said, silencing her with a smile.

          "Coffee," she echoed.  'Way to sidestep _that landmine, Mon,' she thought sarcastically to herself._

          "That's weird, the door's unlocked," Monica mused after climbing the stairs with Ryan.  They entered the apartment.

          "Chandler?" Monica called out hesitantly, taking Ryan's coat and hanging it on the door.  Chandler emerged from Faith's bedroom, greeting Monica and giving Ryan that weird "guy upwards head nod" thing.

          "What are you doing here, I thought you were going to the game?" Monica asked.

          "Faith got sick, so I stayed here with her."

          "Faith's your daughter, right?" Ryan asked, his voice overly friendly.  His question was left unanswered as Monica went into panic mode.

          "Sick?  What do you mean sick?  Does she have a fever?"

          "She did, it went down, it's only about 99 now," Chandler told her.

          "She probably caught what Ross had… I _told him to stay away from her," Monica said frustratedly.  "Did you give her-"_

          "The amoxocillyn left over from last time, yeah, that helped.  She's fine now, Monica, really, I just got her to sleep," he assured her.  He noticed Ryan's uncomfortable expression.  "Anyway, I'm wiped, so I'm going to go to bed too.  Have a good night," he told them both, and disappeared into his bedroom.

          Monica turned to Ryan and smiled.  "Sorry about that," she said, handing him a mug of coffee and leading him to the couch.

          "It's okay… Great apartment," he complimented.  She shrugged.

          "I used to live across the hall, it's a lot nicer," she joked.  "I moved in to help Chandler with the baby," she explained.  

          "Faith," he added.  

          "Yeah, Faith.  She's great, you'll have to meet her when she's in better health," she said with a chuckle.

          "Yeah, I'd like that," he said quietly, leaning in slowly.  Monica's pulse quickened, not with anticipation, but with anxiety at the fact that she was about to be kissing someone with Chandler one thin door away.  She didn't have much to worry about, however, because two seconds into the tense kiss, Faith began screaming at the top of her lungs.  Chandler came out of his room just as the two broke apart.

          "I'm sorry," he said apologetically, rushing to the refrigerator and grabbing Faith's medicine.  Monica smiled awkwardly.  

          "No problem," she said. Chandler went back into his and Faith's room and closed the door.  Ryan, undeterred, tried the kiss again, but she started talking to distract him.

          "So, where did you grow up?" she asked, above Faith's cries.

          "Um… a little town about two hours upstate," he answered.  "And you?"

          "Long Island.  With my brother, Ross, who you met.  Any siblings?" she said, a little too loudly.

          "I have two sisters," he said.  

          "Older or younger?" she asked, desperate to keep the conversation moving.

          "Charlotte's older and Hanna's younger."  Faith's cries became more shrill, above Chandler's failed attempts at soothing her.  Monica sighed.

          "Ryan, I'm really sorry about this," she said.

          "Don't worry about it," he told her.  "I understand.  She's not your kid," he said jokingly.  And that was the moment Faith decided to start screaming for her.  Cries of "Mon", easily mistaken for "Mom", resonated through the apartment.  He looked at her quizzically.

          "She's not, right?" he asked.  She exhaled with a short laugh.

          "No. She's saying Mon, not Mom," she explained, standing.  "I'll be one second."  He nodded unhappily.

          She entered the bedroom and closed the door behind her.  Chandler was frantically rubbing Faith's back and trying to get her to quiet down.

          "What's wrong?" Monica asked, frustrated.

          "Nothing, I'm sorry," Chandler apologized.

          "Mon!  Mon!  Mon, want!" Faith cried.

          "Here," Monica said, reaching for the baby.  Chandler pulled her away.

          "It's fine, I have it under control.  Go back to your date," he said, practically spitting the word out.

          "You obviously don't have it under control," Monica argued, above Faith's ever increasing cries that got louder when she almost had Monica and then was denied.  He sighed and handed her over.  Monica sat down on the floor and rocked the baby gently.

          "Shh, sweetie, it's okay.  You don't feel well, I know, I know.  And it stinks.  But we're here.  We love you.  It's okay," Monica said soothingly.  Soon Faith's shrieks became whimpers which gave way to hiccups, and she was asleep.  Monica placed her gently in her crib.

          "Thank you," Chandler said quietly.  "She wanted you and I just wasn't going to cut it for her."

          "It's fine," Monica said.  "Chandler, I never would have had him in if I thought you were-"

          "I know.  It's okay.  I'm really okay with it," he said, lying through his teeth and they both knew it.  "I'm gonna go to bed.  Night Mon," he said.  She left and closed the door.

          Ryan had his coat on and was waiting by the front door.

          "Where are you going?" she asked.  "She's asleep."

          "Yeah… look, Monica, you're great, and I have a lot of fun with you, but… I don't' think this is going to work out," he said.

          "Oh.  Okay…"

          "You have kind of a full plate right now… what with the jealous ex-whatever slash roomate and his child that screams _your_ name when she's sick… that's like, real life stuff.  And I'm just… not looking for real life stuff right now, I guess," he explained.

          "I understand," she said.  And she did.  She kissed him on the cheek.  "Thank you again, for tonight."

          "Take care," he told her.  And that was that.

          Chandler poked his head through the door as she collapsed on the couch.

          "I heard the door shut," he explained.  "What happened?"

          "Nothing," she said.  "My life is too 'real life' for him right now."  He sat down next to her.

          "I'm sorry," he said.  She looked at him, unconvinced, then let out a short laugh.

          "You are not," she said.  He smiled.

          "You're right.  I'm not," he admitted.  "I'm trying to be, though."

          "I know you are," she said.  "So, how about you?  How's Lucy?"  He looked at her uncomfortably.

          "Okay, well, the thing is… Lucy is like, really shallow and I don't like her at all.  Even as a friend," he said.

          "But you guys were friends for-"

          "Yeah, that was a lie.  She went along with it.  I met her last week," he said, embarassed.  She rolled her eyes.

          "I know, pathetic," he said.

          "No, actually… I was just thinking about how ridiculously jealous I got over some fictitious candidate for a girlfriend that you fed me," she admitted.

          "Really?  You were jealous?"

          "No," she said.  "Yes.  Totally."

          "Huh."

          "What's that… what's that, 'huh', what is that?" she asked.

          "Nothing, it's just… I guess neither one of us was ready to date," he said.

          "Ready for the _other one to date, you mean," she said smiling._

          "That too," he said.  They looked into one another's eyes almost longingly.  Chandler broke the moment abruptly by standing up.  If that went on a second longer, he would have kissed her.

          "Well, I'm beat.  Night Mon," he said, ruffling her hair.

          "Goodnight," she told him, standing and heading to her own bedroom.  Their doors shut simultaneously.

**Patience is a virtue, I'm telling you all that once more.  Not much more to go, a chapter or two, then I'm done!  The more you review the sooner I post the next chapter, so get to it.**


	11. The Perfect Crescendo

A.N.  I'm back!  (Right now you're either muttering "finally" or "oh god why".  I'm hoping that it's the first one!)  If you're wondering why I've been taking sooo long to update I'll just have to apologize and point out that this is exactly why summer jobs should NOT be the all consuming, 48 hour a week nightmare that mine is.  But OH WELL, life goes on.  And so does this story.  We're nearing the end, thanks for sticking with me those of you who are still around.  Read, enjoy and PLEASE review!!!! Thanks for your comments, interest, and most of all, your patience.  LOVE YA!

-Maddy

_Disclaimer: Seeing as I'm not making any money, I clearly do not own anything like Friends._

          Monica finished drying the last dish and tucked it safely away among the others in the cabinet just as Chandler came into the apartment, back from the gym.  

          "Hey," she greeted, turning around in her position next to the cabinet.

          "Hey," he responded, walking towards her.  He reached above her head for a glass, pressing her body gently against the countertop.  She looked up at him, surprised.

          "Sorry… just needed a glass of water," he said softly.  She blushed, not failing to notice that he had the glass in his hand, and yet he wasn't backing away.

          "You're all sweaty," she finally managed to say, her heart pounding.

          "You're all wet," he responded, pointing at her t shirt that had been splashed by the sink while she was washing dishes.

          "Touche," she said quietly.  

          "You're also breathing kinda heavy," he told her, still not moving.

          "You're not moving."

          "I don't plan on it," he said huskily.  "Is that a problem?"  She shook her head and their lips met quickly, passionately.  The glass he was holding slipped from his hands and shattered on the floor, but neither noticed as his hands snaked around her small frame.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and her hands raked seductively through his hair.  A soft moan escaped her mouth as he moved his lips from hers to her neck, then to her collarbone.  She ran her hands up under his t-shirt, frantically trying to remove it.  He finished getting it over his head and then removed hers, their bodies slinking down against the counter until they were on the floor.  They quickly discarded the rest of their clothes as their hands and lips roamed each other's bodies passionately.  

          "Mon?" he asked, his words muffled against her flat stomach.

          "Hmm?" she said, eyes squeezed shut.

          "Are you sure you want to do this?" he murmered, making his way back up to her lips.

          "God, yes," she responded hungrily.

          "Traffic is backed up at the Midtown Tunnel and you should expect 15 to 20 minute delays," he said.

          "What?"

          "Also, a three car pile up on the corner of 13th and Sloane has traffic stopped for blocks, so make sure to get a head start this morning," the obnoxious radio voice continued from her alarm clock, jerking Monica awake.  She lay there for a moment, confused, and then the dream came flooding back.  She groaned and pulled her pillow on top of her face, reaching out to slap the alarm off.  That was the third time this week.

          Chandler looked at Monica with a concerned expression over the breakfast table as Faith happily tossed Cheerios from her high chair.  

          "Mon, are you okay?" he asked.  "You seem kind of far away."

          "What?  Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she told him.  "Weird dream," she explained, off his disbelieving look.

          "Oh," he said, understanding.  Then he smiled.  "Was I in it?"

          "Yes, actually," she said, shifting uncomfortably.  He grinned.

          "And what was so weird about it?"  

          "You had just got back from the gym," she told him, smiling teasingly.

          "And…?"

          "That's it," she said.  He made a face at her.

          "Yeah, I guess that _is a weird dream," he admitted.  "Seriously, though."_

          "Seriously, I really gotta run," she said, clearing her bowl.  "I'm five minutes late already and rumor has it traffic's a bitch."

          "Okay.  See ya," he said as she grabbed her purse and jacket and left.           Outside, she took a deep breath.  Why was she having all these weird sex dreams about Chandler?  It had been, like, a hundred years since they had broken up.  Or not broken up but… whatever.  She hated not being able to define what it was that they had, but she'd gotten used to it.  This new development, the dreams, she was having trouble adjusting to.  Was it her subconscious telling her that she had made a huge mistake?  Or was it just leftover lust for her best friend, trying to find some outlet?  Or maybe she was just lonely.  Whatever it was, it was freaking her out.

          It seemed like eveywhere she went, there was something there to remind her of him.  His scent on her clothes (reason number one hundred and sixty why you don't live with your ex).  The Thai place she passed on her way to work where they used to go on Friday nights.  A gum wrapper on the ground that was the brand he liked.  A shirt in a store window that would go great with his eyes.  A man crossing the street with a baby in a Snugli.  She groaned in exasperation.  Maybe she needed to move out, she thought to herself.  Or maybe she just missed him, her less cynical side countered.

          "Phoebe?" Monica called into the girls' apartment several hours later.  

          "In here!" came her friends sunny voice, and Monica followed it, and the scent of lavender incense, into Phoebe's bedroom.

          "Hey… what's up?" Monica asked, plopping down on the bed.

          "Nothing, just trying out some new incense I'm thinking about using for work," Phoebe said excitedly, joining her on the bed.  "What's up with you?"

          "Nothing," Monica replied with a sigh.  Phoebe looked at her.

          "That was not a happy nothing.  Do you need an aura cleansing?"

          "No, no, Phoebes… actually I was hoping we could just talk for a while."

          "Sure.  Anything in particular on your mind?"

          "Kinda," Monica admitted, embarassed.  Phoebe laid down beside her.  There was a few moments of silence.

          "I could start guessing," Phoebe offered finally.

          "It's just… I've been having these dreams… and thoughts.  About Chandler."

          "Whoa, whoa whoa whoa… are we talking _sex dreams here?" Phoebe practically screeched.  Monica shushed her frantically._

          "Keep it down!"

          "Sorry.  But?"

          "Yes, okay, yes.  I've been having sex dreams about Chandler.  Like a _lot."_

          "Okay… wow this is huge!  So what do you think it means?"

          "I don't know!  That's the problem.  I've been driving myself crazy over it, and I'm not sure if it means I want to be with him, or if I'm just confused or lonely-"

          "Lonely being lonely or lonely being a euphemism for horny?" Phoebe cut in.

          "Both, I guess," Monica admitted.

          "Wait- you said dreams and _thoughts, like conscious, real thoughts?"_

          "Yeah.  Like… everything reminds me of him.  Everything makes me think about it."  Phoebe shook her head and tsk-ed.

          "What?  What's that noise?" Monica asked impatiently.

          "Mon… it sounds like you're in love with him."

          "Noooo," Monica scoffed.  

          "Yesssss," Phoebe argued.  "And I have to tell you… I've been friends with both of you for a really, really long time.  And I've never seen either of you happier than when you were together."

          "Phoebe, I know, but-"

          "I'm not finished.  That wasn't my point.  My point is, that as happy as you both were, Chandler was ruined when you broke it off.  He was devestated, Monica.  And I know that on some level you were too, and that he lied to you, blah blah blah… but I really don't think he could take it again.  And even though you're my best friend… he's my friend too, ya know?  So, I guess what I'm saying is, if you're going to re-think things, if you're going to do this again… you better be totally sure about it."

          Monica looked down at her hands.  "I know."

          "So.  Are you?"

          "Completely sure?  No.  But I'm starting to think that with love you can never be totally sure."

          "I agree, I guess," Phoebe conceded.  "Just- be careful, Mon."

          "I will.  I'm not going to do anything, I just needed to talk it out.  Thank you," she added.

          "Anytime.  Now.  Lavender, or vanilla?" Phoebe asked, lighting more incense.

          "I can't believe you turned down a date, man.  I mean, what's _wrong with you?  Don't you _like_ sex anymore?" Joey asked Chandler incredulously as they walked down the street._

          "Let it go, Joey," Chandler warned.  Joey eyed him suspiciously.

          "Is this a Monica thing?"

          "No.  God, why does everything have to be about her?" Chandler asked, annoyed.

          "It doesn't, but you _make it that way.  You're clearly still in love with her."_

          "Well, Joey, I've been in love with her for like years.  It's not something you can just turn on and off."

          "I know.  Hey.  I'm sorry, I just thought-"

          "It's okay, I understand.  Trust me… I _want to forget about it.  I just…"_

          "You can't."

          "I just don't get it… I mean, we live together, we have this amazing connection, this obvious chemistry between us… I know she loves me, she knows I love her… so what is it?" Chandler asked.  Joey looked at his friend.  It was the first time in months that he was really opening up to him, or anyone, about this stuff.  

          "If it means anything, I really do think it's going to work out for you guys someday," Joey said sincerely.  Chandler shook his head in frustration.

          "Thanks.  Hey, I'm gonna run across the street to that grocery store.  Faith needs sippy cups.  We have time?"

          "Yeah, man, we're fine.  I'm gonna call my agent and see what happened with that audition," Joey said, stopping at a pay phone.  "I'll meet you right back here."

          "Okay," Chandler said as he made his way across the street.

          Joey was fumbling in his pocket for the piece of paper with the phone number on it.  He didn't see the cab run the red light.  He didn't see the driver slam into his best friend and send him flying through the air on his way to buy sippy cups for his daughter.  But he heard it.  He heard the brakes squeal, the impact of the car.  He heard the thud of Chandler's body on the pavement yards away, and he heard traffic stop.  He willed himself to look up, and when he did, he fell to his knees and vomited.

          Monica and Faith were making dinner.  Well, Monica was making dinner, and Faith was playing with pots and wooden spoons at her feet.  Monica stepped over her to get to the refrigerator.

          "What a _beautiful song, Faith!" she exclaimed.  Faith grinned and banged the pot three times in succession._

          "Mon play?" she asked, extending one of the spoons toward her.  Monica quickly checked on the sauce simmering on the stove and counted that she had about six minutes.

          "Sure thing, babydoll," she said, sitting beside her on the floor and joining in the percussion concert.  Monica smiled and smoothed back Faith's hair as she watched her, little tongue hanging out the corner of her mouth and eyes squinted in intense concentration.  The phone rang just as Faith finished her last bang.

          "The perfect crescendo!" Monica said laughing, standing to answer the phone.  "Hello?"

          "Monica?" a weak, cracking voice asked from the other end.

          "Joe?  Is that you?"

          "Yeah, it's me," he said, fighting tears.

          "Are you all right?  You sound weird," she said.

          "I'm fine… I'm at the hospital."  Monica's heartbeat quickened as her mind raced, trying to place each of her friends.  Rachel was at work.  Phoebe was massaging.  Ross and Carol were on vacation.  Chandler was-

          "What are you doing at the hospital?" Monica asked shakily, squeezing her eyes closed in realization of who he was there because of.

          "Mon… Chandler got hit by a car," Joey said quietly.  "You need to get down here."  She said nothing.  Her mouth was dry, her mind was numb.  Faith started banging on the pots again.

          "Monica?"

          "What do you mean he got hit?  He's okay, right?" she finally asked frantically.  Joey didn't respond.  "Joey?  He's _okay_, isn't he?"

          "I think you should just come down here as fast as you can," he said as soothingly as he could under the circumstances.  

          "I'll be right there.  Don't move," she said, hanging up the phone.  

**Wow that was EVIL even for me!!! Wanna know what happens?  REVIEW!**


	12. In Case of Emergency

**A.N.****  Chapter 12 ****J****  Sort of shorter but I posted it a lot faster this time, eh?  You guys are proud of me.  I know you are.  Seriously, though, I hope this lives up to all of your expectations.  Probably one more chapter and possibly an epilogue to go, so please read and review.**

_Disclaimer:  I don't own anything._          

            Joey sat in a ridiculously uncomfortable orange plastic chair, but he didn't even notice because he was numb.  He just kept staring at the elevator doors, waiting for someone, anyone, one of his friends, to come barelling through so that he wouldn't be the only one anymore.  The only one who knew what happened, and the only one there to deal with it.

            He was staring at the elevator when it opened and a striking brunette, her pretty face etched in lines of great anxiety, exited the steel doors.  Monica.  In her arms she held a baby, who was growing with each passing moment; was she eighteen months now, or nineteen?  The child was completely oblivious of her surroundings and situation, and her head was resting gently, trustingly, on Monica's shoulder as one of her hands twisted in her hair.  

            "What happened?" Monica demanded as she approached him.  He stood and hugged her tightly.

            "You brought Faith," he said.  

            "No one was home to watch her," she said.  He held her tighter.  "Joey, you're scaring me," she said, voice wavering.  He sighed and released her, sat down and patted the seat next to him.  She sat.

            "I was on the phone," he began shakily.  "Chandler was going across the street to buy something… some cup or something… for Faith," Joey said, and shook his head sadly, stroking Faith's back.  Monica took Joey's hand in hers.

            "I don't know what happened," he continued, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.  "One second he was crossing at the crosswalk, the next he was on the ground.  The paramedics and police came… the guy who hit him drove away.  Ran a red light and kept on going," Joey finished, breaking down.  Monica's hand was at her mouth, in shock.

            "Joey, please tell me he's going to be okay.  You have to tell me that," she begged, her own tears falling freely now.  Joey was silent, weeping softly.  "Joey!  You have to tell me that!  You have to tell me that!" she repeated hysterically.  Faith, finally sensing the tension, began to cry as well.  It took Monica a moment or two to recognize the child on her lap.  "Shhh, baby, shhh.  Not right now.  Please," she said, wiping her eyes.  Faith's crying quieted slightly.

            "What did the doctor say?" she asked Joey.

            "He's in surgery.  They won't tell me anything.  They said he was unconcious and lost a lot of blood on the way over," he managed to get out.

            "Why won't they tell you anything?" Monica practically screamed, starting the baby off again.

            "Because I'm not family.  They said they needed to talk to his mom, or to you.  His mom's in France."

            "Why me?" she asked.

            "You're his in case of emergency person," he said.  "Go talk to that nurse, she was the one that was with him," he pointed across the room. 

            "Take her," Monica said, giving Faith to Joey and walking towards the nurse jauntily, unnaturally.  Joey looked down at the crying baby in his arms.  She was so little, so innocent… Chandler was her only parent.  The best parent she could ask for.  If he… he couldn't even bring himself to think it, but… she would be all alone.  Well, she'd have them, but… it wouldn't be the same.  He pictured her five, ten, twenty years down down the road… beautiful, successful… but in every image, she was crying, just like she was now.

            "Excuse me?" Monica said, approaching the middle aged nurse.  "I'm Monica Geller, my friend Chandler Bing was brought in-"

            "The hit and run," the nurse said in recognition.  "Yes, your boyfriend over there has been waiting for you," she said, indicating Joey.

            "He's not my boyfriend," Monica started, then realized she didn't care what this woman thought.

            "Oh, I just assumed from the-"

            "Could you please tell me about Chandler?" she interrupted impatiently.  She really didn't care what this woman assumed, either.

            "Of course, let me get his chart," she said.  She returned moments later.  "He just got out of surgery," she said.  "He was hit pretty badly, and lost a lot of blood-"

            "Is he going to be okay?" Monica interrupted again.  "I'm sorry, but… is he going to be okay?"  

            The nurse looked at this girl.  She couldn't have been more than 25 or 26 years old, and her face was so drawn, so worried.  She wanted to envelop her in a giant hug, comfort her, be her mother.  But the best and only thing she could give her was the truth.

            "He broke his leg and two ribs, and he has a moderately mild concussion.  He's still unconscious, and we won't get the CAT scan back for a few hours.  But barring any furthur complications… he should make a full recovery," the nurse said.  Monica exhaled and realized she'd been holding her breath, but didn't remember for how long.  Her face crumbled and she sobbed tears of relief.  The nurse dropped the chart and hugged her.

            "Thank you," Monica managed to get out.

            "He's going to be okay," she said soothingly.  Monica collected herself as best she could.

            "Can I see him?"

            "He really shouldn't have visitors at this junction," the nurse began.  

            "I need to see him," Monica insisted.  The nurse hesitated.

            "Okay.  Don't tell anyone," she warned.  Monica nodded gratefully. 

             "I won't, thank you so much."  She hurried back to Joey and relayed the information, hugged him tightly, kissed Faith, and then followed the nurse to Chandler.

            "Is that you daughter?" the nurse asked on their way.

            "No, it's his.  Chandler's," Monica told her absently.

            "She's beautiful."

            "Yes, she is.  So is he," Monica said, tearing up again.  

            "Here we are," the nurse said, opening the door.  "Only for a few minutes, now."  Monica nodded and thanked her again, then entered the room.

            She choked back a sob when she saw him.  He was hooked up to a million machines.  His body was mangled, there was a long gash above one of his eyebrows and bruising all over his face and arms.  His leg and ribs were casted and stiff.  He looked like he had escaped death, and she realized that he had.  She sat down in the chair next to his bed and took his hand gently.

            "Oh Chandler," she breathed.  "You scared us so badly."  His breathing was labored.

            "But you're going to be okay.  You have to be okay.  I need, you, Faith needs you.  We all need and love you so much," she said through her tears.  "I've been so incredibly stupid.  I was so determined to find myself that I lost what was most important.  I was so determined to save our friendship that I destroyed what we both really wanted.  And worst of all," she choked, "I pretended I didn't want it at all.  When you wake up- and you _will, you __will wake up- I'm going to repeat all that," she said, laughing a little.  "I love you, Chandler," she whispered, kissing his lips gently.  She moved to the edge of his bed gingerly and kissed his hand.  "I love you so much, and I'm just sorry it took you getting run over for me to realize how wrong I've been."  She felt a gentle pressure on her hand and looked up, surprised and wiping her eyes._

            "Ch- Chandler?" she asked softly.  His eyes fluttered, then opened.  "Chandler," she repeated, smiling, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

            "Hey Mon," he croaked out, squeezing his eyes in pain.  She giggled in relief.

            "Hey you," she whispered, stroking his cheek. 

            "How am I?" he asked.

            "You're gonna be just fine," she told him.  "Any chance you heard what I was saying before?"

            "What?  No.  But I would have been listening, if I hadn't been hit by a speeding car," he said dryly.  She laughed.  Leave it to Chandler to come up with sarcasm on drugs and in pain.

            "Good to see you still have that stunning wit," she said.

            "Will you tell me it again?" he asked, drifting off to sleep.

            "Tomorrow," she told him.  "Rest now."

            "Okay.  But you're telling me tomorrow," he told her as he nodded off.  Then his eyes snapped open in panic.

            "Monica, will you stay here with me?" he asked, too loudly.  She sat on the floor and rested her head against his arm.

            "Shh.  Of course.  I'm not going anywhere."

            "You promise?" he asked sleepily.

            "Never again," she whispered as he fell asleep.


	13. I Love You Back

**A.N.****  Sorry it took me a while.  But I was happy to see that some of you guys liked my other liittle fic!  I just needed a break from this.  But now I'm totally back on track.  Read, enjoy, and review!**

**Disclaimer:  I don't own anything.**

                "You're looking better by the hour," Monica declared, fluffing the pillow behind Chandler's head.  He'd been in the hospital for a week and the doctors said that he could go home that afternoon.

          "Well thank you, Dr. Geller," he mocked.

          "Shut up."

          "You're telling an invalid to shut up?  That's cold, even for you."

          Chandler did look a lot better than he had when she had first seen him after the accident, but his cuts and bruises were still visible, and he still had one of his legs in a cast and his ribs taped.  

          "You're not an invalid, and don't even say that.  Listen, I have to go relieve Rachel, she's at home with Faith.  I'll be back around four to pick you up?"

          "You can send one of the others if you have to work," he offered.  

          "No.  I'll be here," she insisted.

          "Mon, you've missed like six days already because of this."

          "So one more won't make much of a difference, will it?" she argued.  He chuckled and threw up his hands in defeat.  There was no arguing with her when it came to stuff like this.

          "Okay.  See you at four."

          Monica grinned and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.  On her way out the door, he called to her.

          "Mon?  I meant to ask you before… I had this weird memory last night when I was trying to fall asleep of you saying you have to tell me something, like right after I woke up."  She froze.  Neither of them had mentioned her impending confession, and she had wondered if he hadn't brought it up because he didn't want her anymore.  Relief that her doubt was untrue mingled with anxiety at the thought of pouring out her heart to him.  Again.

          "So, did that happen, or was it morphine-induced?" he joked.

          "No, it happened."

          "So… what was the important thing you had to tell me?"

          She twisted her ring around her finger.  "You know, I want to tell you later, when we're home.  Tonight.  Okay?"

          "Okay… should I be nervous?"

          She laughed ironically.  "Maybe," she deadpanned before leaving the room.

          "So, I'm going to tell Chandler that I love him tonight," Monica said casually.  She and Rachel were having a cup of tea while Faith napped, an hour later.  Rachel nearly choked.

          "What?"

          "Yeah.  Opinions?  Only if they're good ones, I mean?" Monica asked her friend.

          "Questions first, opinions later.  When did you decide this?"

          "Officially… when I held his hand after the accident."

          "Pre or post consciousness?"

          "Pre," Monica said.

          "Wow, that's such an… Academy Award caliber plotline," Rachel said.

          "I do what I can," Monica joked.  "Seriously though… What do you think?"

          "I think it's about fucking time," Rachel exclaimed.  Monica quieted her, pointing towards Faith's room.  

          "Sorry. I think it's about _flopping time.  It only took him getting run over by a car for you to grow up, huh?"_

          "What's he going to say?" Monica asked nervously, trailing her mug with her index finger.

          "He's going to say he loves too," Rachel said plainly.

          "But what if he-"

          "He's going to say he loves you too," she repeated.

          "Yeah, but it's been-"

          "He's _going to _say_ he __loves you __too."  Monica looked at her, in silence, contemplating her friends words._

          "Okay," she finally said.

          "Da!  Da!  Da!" Faith cried in happiness at the return of her long lost father to their home.  Monica helped Chandler into the apartment carefully and Ross set down Faith, who toddled her way over to them.

          "Faithy!" Chandler exclaimed happily, as Monica picked her up and gingerly placed her in his arms.  The whole gang was waiting for them with food and balloons, an impromptu welcome home slash get well soon party.

          "Welcome back, Chandler," Joey said, patting his shoulder and helping him into one of the armchairs.

          "Thanks, man."

          "You scared the shit out of me, you know," Joey began, his eyes moistening.

          "I know."

          "Man, I'm gonna cry!" his voice became comedically high pitched as he hurried to the sandwich table.  Some things never changed.

          After everyone had left, Faith had been tucked in by her father, and Monica had cleaned up the kitchen, the two of them sat in the armchairs watching TV.

          "Chandler?" Monica began nervously.

          "Yeah?"

          "It's… really good to have you home."  He smiled at her warmly.

          "It's good to be home with you."

          "Can we, um… can we maybe talk about that thing now?"

          "Yes," he said, turning off the tv and trying unsuccessfully to turn to face her in the chair;  his leg kept getting in the way.  "What's up?"

          "Well, I don't really know how to say this, so I'm just going to do it.  Okay?"

          "Okay… are you moving again?" he asked, suddenly terrified.

          "What?  No!  No, I'm not moving.  Okay.  The thing is..." she looked down at her hands.

          "The thing is…" he prompted her.

          "The thing is that I'm in love with you," she blurted out, not brave enough to look at him even after she said it.  "I've always been in love with you on some level, and I made a huge mistake, possibly the biggest mistake of my entire life, when I broke things off between us, and if you don't want to be with me I completely understand because I've been so incredibly selfish and stupid pretty much nonstop for the past two years-"

          "Monica," he tried to stop her, but she was still not looking at him and would not be stopped.

          "And I know what you're thinking, that how can you know that I'm serious this time and that I'm not just going to screw things up again, and you know what, you don't know that.  But I do.  I know I'm not going to pull the same shit I've pulled my whole life because when Joey called me, I grew up more than I have in the past ten years.  It sounds stupid, but it's true.  When I saw you lying there, I finally understood everything."

          "Monica, look at me," he insisted.  She finally met his gaze.

          "Chandler.  Two years ago, I left to find myself.  But I was too stupid to realize that I was leaving behind such a huge part of who I was.  Because the truth is, if I ever need to know who I am, or who I can be… the only thing I have to do is look at myself through your eyes."

          "Mon-"

          "That's it, I'm done. So, to sum up, I still love you, I was stupid, I've grown up."  He nearly laughed.

          "Thanks for the summation.  Did you ever notice that whenever we discuss our relationship it sounds like a business negotiation?" he asked her.  She looked at him, unamused.

          "I can't joke right now."

          "I'm sorry," he said.

          "So are you going to say something, or should I kill myself now?" she asked with a forced smile.  He tried to get up for several seconds, then gave up.

          "I can't get up.  Come here," he instructed her, laughing.  She got up and stood next to his chair.  He took her hand in his and she knelt beside him.

          "You do realize that the speech you were so nervous to give is all I've been hoping for you to say pretty much since I've known you?"  She breathed a sigh of relief.

          "Really?" she asked.

          "Really.  But you know, last time we did things according to your rules, and this time, we're going to do it right.  Which means the following things:  no sneaking around.  No not communicating when someone gets scared.  I can call you my girlfriend, and I will call you my girlfriend, and you are expected to do the same.  We go out on actual dates.  Anything to add?" he asked her.  She was grinning.

          "Yeah, one thing," she said, leaning over his body gingerly and kissing him passionately.  They made out until Chandler's leg caused him to wince in pain.  She pulled back immediately.

          "Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she apologized, kissing him quickly on the lips.  

          "It's okay," he assured her.  They both stared at the cast on his leg for a few seconds, each comprehending the implications that it held for their immediate future.  They both caught eachothers eye and started laughing.

          "How long till it heals?" she asked.

          "A while," he groaned.  "What are we gonna do?"

          "Clearly, not that," she joked.  "It's okay.  We can wait."

          "Don't have much of a choice," he grumbled.  "I'd like to kill the bastard who did this to me."  Monica laughed.

          "Typical male, your first sign of anger towards the person who hit you is a direct result of the limitations it places on your sex life."

          "And yours," he pointed out.

          "Let's go to bed," she said, and off his look, "I'll try to restrain myself."  She offered him her hand.  It was amazing how natural it was, how easily they had slipped back into old patterns.

          "I love you," she whispered, smoothing his hair back and kissing him softly once they were settled in her bed.

          "I love you back," he told her, returning the kiss.  She smiled as she turned off the light and fell asleep smiling.

**That was it, the last chapter!!!  I could, however, be convinced to write an epilogue… Review!!!**


	14. Epilogue

A.N.  Thank you SO much to all of those who read, followed and reviewed this story from the beginning.  I had such a good experience writing it and am so glad that it was well-received J Here is the epilogue that several of you requested.  I hope that it lives up to your expectations.  I have a few more ideas for stories floating around up there in that crazy head of mine, and hopefully I will have the time to write and post them here, because you guys are all the best!!  Thanks one more time!  Read and review and ENJOY.

**Disclaimer:  For the LAST time.  I don't own Friends.**

            "Daddy, watch.  Daddy!  Watch!" cried an impatiant six year old to her father, who was temporarily distracted by checking his cell phone messages.

            "Sorry, honey, what?" Chandler asked.  Faith grinned once she had his full attention and began bounding towards the basketball hoop that they were practicing at that crisp fall afternoon.  After her failed, but inspired, lay-up attempt, his daughter looked back at him with a smile as if she had made it.  "Wasn't that better?" she asked.

            "Much better," he agreed, touseling her wavy honey brown hair that had flown loose from her ponytail.  Faith was small for her age, with big blue eyes that still looked exactly like her dad's.  That Saturday afternoon, the two of them had taken a walk down to the basketball courts on 60th and 4th, so that Faith could practice for her upcoming recreation basketball league.  

            "Did Mon leave you a message?" Faith asked, indicating his phone.

            "Nope, just your crazy grandma," Chandler told her.  "Hey, how about some ice cream?"

            "Yeah!"

            "Ice cream?  That doesn't sound like the training of a future WNBA star to me," a teasing voice rang out from behind them.  They turned to find Monica standing behind the chain link fence.  

            "Monica!" Faith squealed, running towards her and wriggling through the gate.

            "Hey baby," Monica greeted her, giving her a quick hug and kissing her husband of nearly three years over the gate.

            "You got my note?" he asked, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face.

            "Yup.  Hey, Faithy, how bout a couple more minutes of practice before ice cream so I can see that famous three pointer I keep hearing about?"

            "Sure!" Faith exclaimed, taking the ball from her father and dribbling carefully towards the hoop.  Monica came through the gate to stand next to Chandler, who put his arm around her casually.

            "How was work?" he asked.

            "Fine," she answered.  "Look at her go," she said smiling, indicating Faith chasing the runaway basketball.

            "Yeah she's really into it.  Hey, when are you gonna stop working, anyway?  People are going to be able to tell pretty soon," he asked her, touching her just barely showing belly.

            "I know.  It took me like twenty minutes to button my jeans today," she said proudly.  He laughed and kissed her.  "I was thinking by my sixth month I'll be ready to stop working, concentrate on Faith and the baby for a while.  Sound okay?"

            "Sounds perfect," he agreed.

            "Guys!  Watch me!  Watch this one!" Faith squealed.  The pair turned their eyes to their little basketball star, who took a shot and made it that time.  

            "That was perfect, sweetie!" Monica yelled, clapping.  "She may have your eyes, but she has my jump shot," she teased.  

            "Shut up," Chandler laughed.

            "Mon, tell me this one.  It looks like a good one.  Tell me it," Faith implored later that evening.  Chandler had gone to pick up dinner and Monica and Faith were looking through a photo album, playing Faith's favorite "tell me this one" game.

            Monica smiled at the photo Faith was pointing at.  "That was at the wedding, silly, you were there for that."

            "Yeah, but I was _soooo little! So so small.  Tell it."_

            "Well, that's your daddy, in the tux.  Doesn't he look handsome?"

            "He looks scared," Faith said.  Monica laughed.

            "Yeah, he does.  And that guy in the corner is Uncle Joey."

            "I know that.  Where are you?"

            "I'm in the other room getting dressed with Aunt Rach an Aunt Phoebe."

            "In a beautiful beautiful dress?" Faith asked, pushing the album aside so that she could climb on to Monica's lap.

            "Yup," Monica answered, stroking the little girl's hair as she rested her head on Monica's shoulder.

            "Let me see."

            Monica turned the page and landed on a picture of her, Rachel and Phoebe in the dressing room.  She looked extremely tense but was grinning widely.  Phoebe was holding Faith, who was at the time not quite three, in her flower girl dress, and Rachel was trying to put the finishing touches on Monica's makeup.  

            "That's me!" Faith said happily.  "My dress is pretty, too."

            "Yes, you looked beautiful that day.  Everyone was so proud of you because you knew just what to do and were so well-behaved during the whole ceremony."

            "I remember my shoes were too tight."  

            Monica laughed.  "So were mine, honey."  Faith giggled and jumped down from her lap, putting the album away and taking out a new one.

            "Let's look at this one," Faith said, opening it to the first page.  Monica put her arm around the small girl and sighed when she saw the first picture.

            "That's my mommy." Faith observed.  It was one of two photographs Chandler had of Jaime.  She was in the hospital, just having had Faith, and she was smiling tiredly.  The smile was forced.  And she wasn't holding the baby.  Monica shook her head.  It should have been so obvious that she was going to leave, but no one wanted to see it.

            "Yes, that's your mommy."

            "She's pretty," Faith said solemnly, tracing her outline with her pinky finger.

            "She's very pretty," Monica agreed.  Faith paused and looked up at her.  

            "But you're prettier," she said finally, resting her head back on Monica's shoulder.  Monica smiled at her sweetness and kissed her on the head.

            "Did you know her?" Faith asked.

            "Not well, but a little."

            "Oh.  Was she nice?"

            "Yes, in a lot of ways, I think she was," Monica said carefully, rubbing Faith's back.

            "Mon?"

            "What, sweetie?"

            "Why didn't she want to stay with me?"  Monica sighed heavily.

            "I don't know honey.  Because she was crazy."

            "Did I cry too much?" Faith said knowingly.  Monica pulled away and looked her in her eyes.

            "Faith, no.  You were perfect.  It was nothing that you did.  You were and are beautiful and sweet and good and smart and amazing."

            "How come she didn't know any of that?" Faith said, honestly wondering.

            "Faith… your mom had things that she had to do, and nobody can understand her reasons except for her."  Faith considered this.

            "When the new baby comes, you're not going to go away, are you?" she finally asked, her blue eyes brimming with tears.  Monica laughed and gathered her back into her arms, hugging her tightly.

            "No!  Of course not, sweetie.  I'm not going anywhere.  I promise, okay?"

            "Okay.  Monica, you know what?  It's kind of good that my mommy had other things to do.  Because if she had stayed then you and my daddy wouldn't have gotten married and you wouldn't be with me everyday and we couldn't go to the park or play beauty parlor and you wouldn't sing the sweet child song when I can't sleep, right?"  

            Monica's eyes teared at her sincerity and sweetness.  "Right.  I love you, Faith, you know that right?"

            "Right."

            "And when the baby comes-"

            "You and daddy will love me the same and still play with me all the time and the baby can't take my place because I'm special," Faith recited the lecture Chandler and Monica had been giving her for months.  Monica laughed.  

            "Right." 

            "Hey beautiful ladies!" Chandler cheerfully announced as he entered the apartment with his arms full of Chinese take-out.

            "Food!" Faith exclaimed.  

            "Did we forget to feed it again?" Chandler asked Monica in mock exasperation.  "I knew I had too much free time today."

            "Haha.  Did you forget how I'm cranky when I'm hungry and I'm hungry for two right now?" she asked him, coming up to him and poking his ribs teasingly.

            "Ahh, I hate it when you _do that!" he said, locking her hands behind her back.  Faith giggled at the scene and raced over to come to Monica's rescue, poking Chandler in the ribs repeatedly._

            "Oh I see how it is, I see how the tables have turned on me," he exclaimed.  "You're a little traitor!" He released Monica's arms and chased his daughter in circles around the living room, Faith squealing in delight.

            "And soon there will be three of you," Monica said, rolling her eyes and patting her stomach before sitting down to attack dinner, even if it meant eating alone.

            "Faith and I were looking at photo albums this afternoon," Monica said into Chandler's chest later that night, after they were in bed.

            "That's nice," he murmered, stroking her hair.

            "She was asking some questions about Jaime."  She felt his shoulder under her head tense.  Even after all this time, it was still a sore subject for him.

            "Like what kind of things?" he asked, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice that crept into it every time her name came up.

            "Why she left."

            "What did you say?"

            "I just told her what we agreed to tell her when she asked.  She seemed to understand."

            "Good," Chandler said, kissing her hair absently, but she felt something was amiss.

            "What's the matter?"

            "Nothing… just… I wish she didn't have to know that her mother left her.  I wish that she was your daugher."

            "She _is my daughter," Monica said quietly, turning to look at him before kissing his lips.  He wasn't sure if she was referring to the fact that she was the one who had been there for Faith since diapers or the adoption papers that she signed last fall.  Either way, he knew she was right._

            "I know she is, I just would hate for her to feel at all unwanted, by anyone."

            "She doesn't.  But… she asked me if I was going to leave when the baby came.  That's really the only time during the conversation that she got visibly upset.  But we talked about it and she's fine now," she assured him.  He shook his head.

            "I can't believe that she thought that," he mused.  "It's weird the things you don't know they worry about."

            "Yeah," she agreed.  "Did she say anything to you at bedtime?"

            "Nope.  We just ran through her lines one time and she was out like a light."

            Monica laughed.  "She's gonna be the most adorable talking sheepdog ever."

            "Seriously… I know it's called Peter Pan, but I have a feeling that dog is gonna steal the show," Chandler said chuckling.

            "I'd expect nothing less.  She's clearly gifted," Monica said yawning.

            "Go to sleep sweetie.  You're keeping the baby up."

            "The baby wants to be up.  He kinda likes you," she said, smiling against his neck and planting three soft kisses.

            "He?" 

            "Yeah.  I think it's a boy."

            "Last week you were certain it was a girl because you didn't get morning sickness the day you were in Bloomingdale's with Rachel."

            "Shut up," she said laughing.  "It's definitely a boy."

            "I was making a name list the other day," he said sheepishly.  "At work."

            "They work you like a dog over there.  Honestly.  So unfair."

            "Do you want to hear my ideas or not, smart ass?"

            "I want to hear them."

            "Okay.  Here's my girls."

            "It's a boy."

            "Okay fine we'll start with boys then.  Finn."

            "Isn't that a lost boy from Faith's play?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

            "Okay, I'm getting the vibe you don't like that one.  Not a fan of Finn.  Not so much a Finn fan."

            "Here's some of mine.  Avery, Oliver, or Elliot."

            "Those are girly names," Chandler said, unimpressed.

            "You're right, they aren't masculine enough.  _Chandler Muriel," she finished pointedly. _

            "Oh you're going down," he told her, tickling her until she started squealing, and then, afraid that they'd wake Faith, they calmed down and fell asleep in eachother's arms.

            "While Mother and Father are out, I'm in charge of you children, and I say it's time for bed!" Faith executed her third and last line with perfect diction from the confines of her grey yarn sheepdog costume at her place onstage.  The Huntley Day School's first grade class was making their theater debut, and Faith was already the only six year old up there who hadn't flubbed a line.  Chandler took Monica's hand in the audience and grinned.

            Faith Bing had needed the most amount of tickets in her entire class.  They took up a whole row as they sat, enraptured by the charming performance of a particularly prococious six year old child.  Ross, recently divorced from Carol (he citing irreconcilable differences; she citing lesbianism) held down the aisle seat; next to him was Phoebe, still as flighty as ever; next to her, Joey, whose womanizing hadn't slowed- he was mouthing the words to the play that he had coached to Faith, convinced that she was following in her Uncle's acting footsteps; Chandler after that, beaming with pride; Monica, her fingers laced through her husbands, smiling in amusement; and lastly Rachel, Faith's "cool aunt" and most common babysitter, who to this day considered herself the "matchmaker" and driving force between the close-knit and happy Bing family.

            After the play was over, Chandler and Monica went to the classroom where the were to pick up Faith as the other four left to hold the reservation at a nearby restaurant for a celebratory dinner.  

            "Hi!" Faith exclaimed upon seeing them, running towards the couple and flinging herself, sheepdog makeup smudged on her flushed cheeks.

            "Baby girl, you were amazing," Chandler declared, picking her up and swinging her around.

            "Did you see me do everything perfect?  I didn't mess up one time!  And my costume didn't fall down either!"

            "It was truly fantastic," Monica agreed, bending down to give her a kiss after Chandler released her.

            "Where's everyone?"

            "Waiting for us at the restaurant.  How bout we go to the bathroom and wash some of that make-up off while Daddy gets the car?"

            "Okay."  Chandler kissed them both and left as they made their way to the girls room down the hall.  Another mother stopped them halfway to congratulate Faith.

            "You were wonderful, sweetheart!"

            "Thank you!" Faith said, still glowing from her rave reviews.

            "You must be so pround," the woman continued, gearing her comments toward Monica.

            "I am," Monica agreed, touseling Faith's blonde curls.

            "So pretty, too… I can see where she gets her good looks from, she has your exact eyes!" 

            Monica laughed.  "Well actually-" she began, as Faith interrupted.

            "Thank you," Faith said simply, reaching up for Monica's hand.  It was all she had in her not to start crying right in front of this strange woman, but she managed, and the two of them walked to the bathroom hand in hand.

**_Chandler and Monica had a boy, as she suspected, roughly five months later.  They named him Aidan James Bing, and Faith was an enthusiastic big sister.  They bought the apartment next door and broke through the wall to accommodate their growing family.  Two years later, they had another daughter, Ruby Alyse.  And they all lived happily ever after.  _**

**_THE END._****__**

****

That's it, guys!  Hope that you liked how I envisioned the future!  I know it was a little long but I wanted to give you a thorough conclusion.  Please review!  Thank you again for reading!


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